The Scribble on the Napkin that JK Lost
by Anja Tangeberr
Summary: Gen was a smart girl. She was quick, and nimble. She brought the greatest change to the universes imaginable, but she was, somehow, forgotten…
1. Chapter One: The Discovery

DISCLAIMER: All characters living at Hogwarts belong to JK Rowling, as does Hogwarts itself.  Gen (pronounced Jen), Morg, Tram, Katy, and "The Bridge" are mine, but basically everything else belongs to JK.  I write this for my own pleasure, and make no profit off of it.  Please don't sue. Okay, summary time.  This is basically the pilot in a series of Fan Fictions I'm planning on doing.  It's the story of a girl who makes an amazing discovery, hence the name of the first chapter "The Discovery."  Um, this one is a Fan Fiction on Harry Potter, but each one will be on a different thing.  Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Harry Potter, etcetera.  I hope you enjoy.  You wont be seeing any of JK's characters or settings until the third or fourth chapter, so if you're confused by that, don't worry.  They will be showing up eventually.  Please R and R.  Enjoy! The Bridge: Gen Bangle's View of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone 

Written By: Anja Tangeberr****

The Discovery 

            Gen wasn't what you would call average.  She _looked_ average, if that counted for anything; she had an average sized family, which didn't actually mean anything.  For though she looked average from the outside she wasn't, and though her family would seem average it was anything but.  Gen's father was a surgeon; a heart surgeon.  Her mother was a college professor of English, as well as a world famous novelist.  Gen had an older sister in law school, and a younger brother at Santa Maria private school for academically accelerated children.  In layman's terms Gen was the middle child in a family of super geniuses.  Like in every other family, being the middle child, Gen got ignored quite often.  She was the only member of her family who, at a young age, was no labeled "Genius," and made to conform to society's image of what a genius was.  Up until Gen's sixth grade year no one had even considered that she might be a genius like everyone else in her family.  She was put in regular classes where she got regular grades, and made regular friends.  

            Gen's sixth grade English teacher had signed her up for an examination to decide whether or not she would spend the rest of her life studying to become something that fit in her family.  She hadn't expected the test results to shock her as they did.  As it turned out she was smarter than both her brother and sister, and was immediately told that she would be transferred into accelerated classes, or perhaps that she would skip a grade or two.  Gen, for the first time in her life, took her future in her hands, and made a life changing decision.  She told her teacher not to change anything, to keep everything a complete secret, and to make certain that her family never knew the true nature of her intellect.    Things stayed just as they were, and Gen kept her title as the sole person in her family to not be a genius.  Her parents pretended to support her as they always did, but quickly went back to caring about Katy, her older sister's grades, and Tram, her younger brother's future.  

            Currently, Gen was the average freshman in high school.  She was in average classes, got average grades, and hung out with her average friends, just as she had done her whole life.  Mediocrity was her way of survival, though she knew she could pick any life she chose.  It was an average day in Gen's average life when her abnormalities began.

            "Hey Gen," Tram hovered behind Gen, looking over her shoulder, "are you doing homework?"

            "No," Gen said distractedly, as she typed with her 60 words per minute average.

            "Then get off."

            "No," She replied in an offhand manor, her eyes glued to the monitor before her.

            "Gen," Tram whined, "it's my computer, and you've been online for three hours already!"

            "Check the screen poindexter, I'm not online."

            "Why don't you just use your computer?"

            "Because it doesn't work."

            "It does do."

            "Prove it."  Tram stomped off angrily.  Gen smiled to herself, and continued to type.  She was writing up a theory of hers.  For the past three years she had been writing a book of her own theories on life that she someday hoped to publish.

            "It's working!" Tram announced.

            "Yeah right," Gen continued to type.

            "It's starting up right now.  Get up and looks you retard!"

            "Four eyes."

            "Lazy."

            "Metal mouth."

            "Just go!" Gen grumbled, as she saved her document to a disk and got up.  Five seconds later Tram was completely sucked into a mindless computer game that Gen imagined every boy his age was playing all at the same time.  Gen stood before her computer, and stared at the start up screen.  It was frozen at start up.  Gen shut off the computer, and grumbled to herself tossing her disk on the computer desk, then walked away in a huff.    Whenever Gen got fed up with her life, and the way she was treated she walked.  Never to any particular place, just "around."  Gen was usually lost in thought, as she was today.  She walked through the labyrinth of neighborhoods around hers, not noticing the sun grow closer and closer to the horizon.  It wasn't until Gen had made her way out of the residential area, and into the wilderness north of the city that she realized where she was.  Normally she didn't go this far, but she decided, that as she had come all this way, moved by her subconscious, there must have been a reason.  

            She followed the bike path she found herself on, and before long she was looking at a hill.  It was a very steep hill, almost at a 90-degree angle with the ground.  She half walked, half crawled up the hill on all fours.  The hill leveled out on a ledge type thing with a waist-high brick wall behind it.  There was a great flat surface on the other side of the wall.  Gen peered at it wonderingly.  The flat surface was round, and made of stone, but other than that she couldn't really tell.  Gen climbed not-so-gracefully over the wall, and onto the round surface.  She looked close at the polished marble.  It was a compass rose, a great big compass rose.  Gen looked at in bewilderment.  Why would someone put this beautiful thing out in the middle of nowhere, and why would they make it the end of a bike trail, and why would they put such a steep hill at the end of a bike trail.  Gen shook her head, and brushed off her questions.  The view was unbelievable.  She sat there, in the center of the compass looking down on the wild world below.  She felt like she was on the top of the world.

            It was there that Gen made the greatest discovery of her lifetime.  She was silently meditating, imagining some other world where her family would actually care if she lived or died; where every person was equally loved, and important.  It wasn't long before she could see the world perfectly in her mind.  She saw a girl, just like her, with parents who loved her, and siblings who were nice to her.  Soon she saw it so well in her head that she thought she saw it mirrored in the sky, in the clouds.  She gazed at her perfect world for a while, as though it was a dream, and she was asleep.  There was a nagging at the back of her head.  Something wasn't right.  She wasn't just imagining that the image of her world was there, it really was.  She could see it clearly, not just in her mind, but also with her eyes.  Suddenly she snapped out of her strange daze, and looked intently into the picture.  Gen reached out with her fingers, to touch the image.  Her fingers met no barrier, but she felt something all the same.  The feeling was backward.  She could feel her fingers touch in her mind, and then it traveled the opposite way, through her nervous system, and into her fingertips.  She snatched her fingers away; the feeling was too strange.

            She stared at the image, wondering if what she had felt was real.  She watched as it began to fade away before her eyes.  It was leaving.  Gen could see it leaving her without so much as a glimmer of proof as to whether or not it was real.  She reached out to touch it again before it was completely gone, but before her fingers reached the now semi-transparent image she lost control of her body, and doubled over, sneezing loudly.  When she straightened back up the image was completely gone.  Gen cocked her head to one side, staring, wondering if she had seen a reality.  She quickly shook her head, as if trying to shake of her questions, and hesitated only a moment longer, staring with one eyebrow raised slightly above the other, then turned, to leave.  She climbed over the wall, and stood on the ledge for a moment, using all the will power in her being to keep from turning about.  

            Gen started to climb down the hill, which was unsuccessful, so she simply slid down sideways on her feet, with her hand out.  She almost looked like she was snow boarding.  She got to the bottom of the hill, and brushed the dirt off her pants, then started walking back down the bike path, trying to rid her mind of the image she had seen.  Still, a voice in the back of her head whispered for her to turn around.  No, she certainly wouldn't.  She had imagined the whole thing, but there was still that shadow of a doubt.  _Go back, look, make sure.  No, absolutely not!  I'm not that crazy!  Just make certain!  No! Yes!_

            Gen turned around, and went back to the hill.  She couldn't believe she was so crazy to go back, and make sure.  Oh well, no one would ever know, and if they did who cared?  She climbed up the hill with great difficulty, and stepped over the wall.  She looked into the sky where the apparition had been.  There was nothing there.  She thought intently on what had been there, and what it had looked like.  Nothing happened.  Gen stood there for a long time, willing the image to come back.  She was just about to give up when she saw a glimmer of the image.  She concentrated harder on the spot, and almost as if the clouds had opened up a portal into another world she could see the replica of herself.  It was really there.  

            Gen reached out and touched the image.  It felt strange, but after a minute the feeling became bearable, and she reached in further, wondering if the girl in the other world could see her, or hear her.  Gen tried to get a grip on something to pull herself closer to the image, and maybe even bring a greater portion of her body into it, but there was nothing solid about the image.  Gen looked around.  She had nothing to stand on, to make herself higher up, except the wall.  Gen climbed up, and planted both feet atop the brick wall.  She bent her knees, and then jumped as high, and far as she could toward the image.   

            She fell a foot short, and landed on her left wrist that she threw out in just enough time to catch herself.  The land seriously jarred her wrist, but she was still undaunted.  She felt the need to prove to herself even more that it was real.  She climbed on the wall again, and then bent low, before springing up with all her might, and propelling herself toward the image.  

            She fell short by two inches, and hit the edge of the stone surface.  This time she failed to catch herself, but threw her weight to one side, making her hit the sharp edge of the compass with the whole left side of her body, and roll down the hill.  She rolled down through the thorns, rocks, and overgrown brush, before slowing to a stop somewhere before the hill flattened out completely.  For a long time Gen lay on her back in a strange kind of semi-conscious agony.  She had lost all feeling in her left arm, and she could hear a faint ringing in her ears.  Suddenly she heard the words, _you idiot, I told you not to go back_, in her mind.  She sat up.  She knew she had been lying there for a long time, because the sun had almost set, and it was time to go home.

            Over the next few weeks Gen came back to the hilltop every day, doing experiments on the image.  She had a heck of a time explaining her bruises, and cuts to her parents.  All along her left arm, and hip there was a slightly curved line of a bruise, and her arms, and midriff were all scratched up.  Her left wrist wasn't broken, but seriously torked.  She iced it for days.  But the end result of her experiments was worth the pain, and the scolding.  Gen had made a theory of alternate detentions over the years of her writing theories, but her theory was nothing like the reality that she now saw.  Gen now came to the assumption that every time a person imagined a world, separate from their own, they actually created another world, whether or not they knew it, and whether or not they knew it they were a sort of god to that world.  It was an interesting thought, though she knew no one would believe her unless she could get solid proof, and that was exactly what she planned to do.

Okay, first chapter's up.  Hope you liked it.  The second will be up by next Thursday if not sooner.  Much Love!


	2. Chapter Two: Gen's Car

**Gen's Car**

            Gen nimbly tucked the corners of her sheets, around the mattress, making military corners.  She fluffed up her pillow, and set it at the top of her bed, after smoothing out all the wrinkles in her blanket.  Then she turned around, and started neatly tucking her folded clothes away into their proper drawers.  She hummed quietly as she did so.  She had already picked up the floor, vacuumed the carpet, dusted the shelves, organized her stuffed animals, and washed the windows.  Once a month Gen was made to clean her room, and today was cleaning day.  Gen hated cleaning, but when she did it, she did it well.  During the rest of the month she would let her room go to ruins, but on this one day of the month she made it into a sterile zone.

            Gen stood back, and admired the spotless perfection that was her room.  She took a deep breath, and nodded her approval before kissing her frog prince stuffed animal, and leaving the room.  She wasn't particularly good looking, or for that matter bad looking.  She was average.  She had long, brown, curly hair, wore rimless, square shaped, rose tinted glasses, and stood about five foot three.  She wasn't skinny, or fat, but somewhere in between.  She never wore make-up, but then, make-up didn't suit her funny, but cute little face. 

            Gen walked quickly down the staircase, into the front hall, "I'm going out," she called to the empty hall as she pulled on a jacket.  There was no reply, which surprised her.  Though usually no one cared if she went out, they at least gave evidence that they heard her, "Mom?" Gen turned, and walked into the office.  No one was there.  She walked into the living room.  No one was there.  She was beginning to worry when she found a sticky note on the inside of the front door.

_Gone out to breakfast._

_Be back soon._

            Gen frowned, and pulled the sticky note off the door, getting out a pen.  She stuck a new sticky note on the door and wrote:

_Gone for a walk._

_Be back whenever._

            Gen didn't really know if her parents cared where she went.  If they found her gone, without leaving a note they might not have even cared.  Gen pulled a big, bright yellow umbrella out of the umbrella stand in the front hall, and opened the door.  She stepped out onto the porch, and locked the door behind her, putting her house key in her pocket, and opening her umbrella over her head.  It wasn't raining.

            Gen went for walks all the time, and almost always brought an umbrella.  It was a precautionary thing really.  Number one, if someone tried to rape her she could use it as a sword, to fend him off.  Number two, if it suddenly began to rain she would be safe, and no one else would.  Plus, she found that often people tried to make small talk with you if you walked by, which seriously interfered with her meditation, and the presence of something blatantly unusual scared people.  Sometimes instead of bringing an umbrella she would wear her wide brimmed straw hat with a red ribbon on it, and whistle show tunes very loudly.  If people did attempt to stop her she would either make up a story about having to get home quickly, or pretend that she spoke only French.  Gen didn't really speak in French, but she had this strange ability to pile a huge French accent on English words, and make them sound like French.

            Today Gen wasn't just on a meditative walk.  She was walking with a purpose, directly to the bus stop.  Gen used the public bus quite often, and found that with her yellow umbrella, and her incessant whistling she was one of the odd balls that rode the bus, rather than the nice, scared little girl she used to be when she rode the bus.  When the bus came to a stop she clambered up the steps, and walked clumsily down the isle to the back seat.  She liked to make herself look like so much of a dork that no one would dare make contact with her.  She "accidentally" opened her umbrella in a woman's face, and tripped over another woman's purse.  Gen had always thought that she would make quite the physical comedian.  When she finally got to her seat she plopped herself down, and grinned like an idiot at the two girls of her age sitting next to her.  They scooted over on the seat to get as far away from her as they could.  Gen smiled at her accomplishment, and began to hum the tune to "Hello Dolly" as loudly as she could.  The two girls got off at the next stop.  Gen continued to smile.

            Gen got off at the next stop, in the downtown part of town.  She "worked" downtown, though not really in the sense that she got paid.  She was only fourteen, and couldn't really work.  She "worked" meaning that she did work, but not for any sort of pay, or under the direction of any boss.  Gen walked down the street, and turned the corner, walking into a large mechanic shop called "Joe's Garage."  The man who owned the shop's name was Greg.  He named the shop "Joe's Garage" because he felt that it suited the place, whatever that meant.

            Greg's assistant, Morg, was Gen's friend.  He was two year older than her, but he had known her forever.  Morg was the reason that Gen came downtown as often as she did.  She had needed a place to work, and a garage was the best place, plus it was free, thanks to Morg.  As Gen entered the garage she was met by the sound of Greg lecturing Morg about the importance of punctuality.

            "Don't tell me I came in time to hear Greg on his soap box," Gen laughed, and hung her jacket, and umbrella on the coat rack.

            "Unluckily," Morg rolled his eyes.  Gen and Morg never really took Greg seriously.  It was very difficult not to have a good time with Greg.  He was something between a teenager, and an adult.  Sometimes he was Morg's boss, and others he was his pall.  After the first hour of work Greg and Morg began to ease up.  

            Gen walked to where her tools were set up, next to a car, with a cover over it.  Gen pulled the cover off of the car, revealing it to be a beautiful, old Model-T ford.  She had gotten it from a nearby junkyard, because the Junker had decided that it no longer run, and thus was no good to him.  She had had it towed to the garage, where Morg had said that she could fix it up.  It was really just a cover though, that she only wanted it as her car when she got old enough to drive.  Neither of the men realized that she had never bought an engine to put into the car, that in fact the bizarre machine she had put under the hood was not a car engine at all.

            Gen hadn't told anyone the truth about what she was doing.  She even gave different lies to her family, and friends.  The truth was that instead of a car engine inside her car there was a prototype machine, invented by Gen herself.  Gen had serious plans for dimensional travel, and this machine would take her obsession to the next step.  If everything worked out according to Gen's plans she would be the first person to travel between the dimensions.  Fixing a car was the perfect cover.  Gen was good at working on cars, and Greg had often offered her a job as his other assistant mechanic.  However, Gen was too young for a job, and besides, she didn't want a job.  She liked her carefree way of life.  Everything Gen knew about cars Morg had taught her.  He was in the Auto Academy at their high school.  

            Morg liked to tell his friends Gen was his girlfriend.  Gen liked to tell her friends that she and Morg were secret lovers, from another planet, in another galaxy, who had a telepathic connection with each other.  She liked to keep people wondering.  Sometimes she and Morg would even pretend to be telepathically connected.  They would purposely drop their pencils at the same time in geometry class, or say the exact same thing at the exact same time.  While they both told people they were "together," they really weren't.  Gen was just weird, and Morg just liked the image of having a girlfriend.  When Morg had asked Gen if it was okay for him to call her his girlfriend she had said, "I'm afraid that my true love doesn't belong to his realm."

            "I know," Morg had smiled, he had heard her say that before, "but can I just _tell_ people you're my girlfriend?"  Gen didn't really care.  When Morg described her to his friends he called her a fox, though he would never tell Gen he thought that about her; she was much too sophisticated for that word in reality.

            Gen laid down on a dolly, sliding underneath the car, tools in her hands.  She set to work.  Gen was almost finished fixing up the car entirely.  She was hoping today would be the day.

            "Hey Gen," Gen reached up, and pulled herself out from under the car, to see Morg looking down at her.

            "Yeah?"  She put down her wrench.

            "Me and some of the guys are going to see a movie tonight?  Wanna come?"

            "No can come," Gen said sliding back under the car, "I'm working late tonight!"

            "Why?  Couldn't you just take a break tonight?"

            "Nope, could you hand me some wire cutters?" Gen stuck her hand out, and Morg handed her a pair of wire cutters, "I need to finish, and soon!"

            "Well," Morg stood up, "maybe I'll stay with you.  I didn't really want to see the movie, I thought you might want to."

            "What was it?"

            "Star Wars, Attack of the Clones."

            "Seen it."

            "You have?"

            "Five times."

            "Really?"

            "It came out months ago," Gen laughed, "I didn't even know it was still in theaters.  You go though.  It's a good movie, you'll be missing out."

            "I'm not really into Star Wars."

            "How can you not love Star wars?"

            "I dunno."

            At eleven Gen and Morg went to Gen's house for Morg's lunch break.  They took the bus there, as neither of them could drive.  When they got there Gen's parents scolded her for leaving without telling them.  She pointed out that she had told them she was going the day before, that they had left without giving her warning, and that she had left a note on the door.  They evidently had failed to listen to her, or find her note, how hard they must have looked!  The two quickly escaped to the backyard where they ate peanut butter, and jelly sandwiches next to the pool.  Gen lived in the good part of town, or rather the rich part of town.  Compared with where Morg lived Gen's house was a palace, but Gen always thought of it as a dungeon.  It had three floors, and more bedrooms than Gen's family could possibly need.  Gen's pool was more like a small man made lake.  As they sat on the false rocks, eating the cheapest, and probably lowest class food they could find in the kitchen Gen hated the blatant mockery of nature.  After they ate their simple lunch they entered back into the house.  After what seemed like hours of begging on hands and knees they got a ride from Gen's older sister to "Joe's Garage."  They were only five minutes late.

            It wasn't until a bit past sundown when Gen realized a flaw in her plan.  Her plan was to stay late finishing her work on the car, and leave with it when no one was there to stop her.  In order to leave Greg had to lock up, and he certainly wouldn't leave Gen alone in his garage.  Before long it was time to lock up, and Gen was decided that she wouldn't leave until she finished.

            "Come on people," Greg shouted as he pulled the garage doors down, and locked them, "closing time."  Gen tried to gather up her courage to ask permission to stay late.

            "Gen's working late tonight," Gen heaved a great sigh as Morg explained for her, as if it was so simple, and Greg wouldn't be bothered by it at all, "don't worry, I'm staying with her to make sure she doesn't make trouble."

            "Okay, but don't stay too late," Greg left.  Gen worked silently for a long time, as Morg carried on a one sided conversation with the cement ground.  Gen was in trouble. She needed to run this experiment sometime, and she needed to be alone to do it.  Before long Gen was sure that everything was as good as it would get, she would just need to distract Morg.

            "Hey," Gen whipped her hands off on her jeans, "I think I'm finished."

            "Wicked!" Morg stood up from his chair, "We can go home then?"

            "What do you say we take it for a test drive?"

            "Gen, neither of us has a driver's license."

            "So?  Haven't you ever driven your dad's car around the block before?"

            "Well, duh, but that isn't the point," Morg frowned, "That car isn't registered, plus it's late at night."

            "Oh, bah," Gen reached through the window, and turned the key, putting the car into neutral, "You're just a chicken."

            "Am not!"

            "Then help me push it out into the street."

            "Why not just drive it into the street?"

            "Because…" Gen had to find an answer that was believable; she couldn't tell him that the car didn't actually drive, "It, er, doesn't go backwards.  I haven't been able to figure it out yet, I'll have it in a few days, but it'll go forward well enough."  Morg fell for it.  Together the two pushed the car down the drive, then out onto the street, "Hey," Gen fumbled with her words, "would you go get my jacket?  It's gonna be cold."

            "Sure."  Morg turned, and walked back into the garage, going to the coat rack, and retrieved Gen's jacket.  He carried it out to the drive, and looked about.  The car was gone.  Gen was gone.  The street was empty, and Morg couldn't think what had happened.  He hadn't heard a car start.

Second Chapter, whadayathink?  I know it was a bit early, but oh well.  Please R and R.  Expect the next chapter by Monday, if not Friday.


	3. Chapter Three: The Landing

**The Landing**

            Gen had never driven before.  Not even around the block in her dad's car.  Her dad's car was a Ford Mustang.  If she was to harm his car in any way she would end up on the street.  At the moment, Gen thought how easy if must be to drive a normal car.  She was gripping to the steering wheel of the car for dear life.  If she was to let go it would fly about wildly, sending her body jerking about.  Outside her window everything was a blur, and as there was no glass in the window she felt certain that at any moment her whole body would be thrown into the blur.  Why hadn't she installed seatbelts?  If only Gen could slow down for just a moment she would be able to tell where she was, but it seemed almost as if she was in a black hole, that was pulling her to some unknown destination.

            Gen remembered how strange it had felt when she had touched the image she had seen, and wondered if whoever's thoughts she was now in felt as she had.  She imagined that they must feel ten times stranger, as she wasn't just touching their thoughts but was being hurdled through them.  It seemed that things were moving steadily and steadily faster, until all of a sudden the car jerked to a halt.  Gen's body flew forward with the whiplash of the stop.  She was dizzy, and felt tremendous pain from being thrown forward.  Her head had hit the steering wheel.  

            When she got her senses back she realized that the car had not only stopped, but it had stopped on a street, much like the one she had started on.  It was night, the street was empty, and she was in the middle of what looked like a downtown area.  She looked about to make certain that no one was there, and no one had seen before opening her door, and getting out.  Unfortunately someone had seen her.  Standing on the sidewalk, in the blind spot of Gen's car was a rather short, funny looking man.  He stared at her for a moment, before walking to where she stood, in horror of what he might say.

            "Excuse me," he said in a rather pert, and mouse like British accent, "but I was wondering what that was, and where you got it." The man looked at the car fascinated.

            "Er," Gen bit her lower lip, "what do you mean?"

            "Well, it's a bit embarrassing, but," the man looked back and forth down the empty street, "I've been looking for a flying car, and yours is gorgeous.  I was just wondering if you might inform me as to where I could find one like it.  It being illegal and what not, I've been afraid to ask around."  Gen gave him a strange look, deciding whether or not this was a step in the right direction.  After a few minutes she responded to his strange query.

            "I built it," she said slowly, "it's, er, custom made."

            "Tuts!" The man seemed utterly furious with her answer.

            "Excuse me," Gen pleaded as the man started to loose interest in talking to her, "but I'm new, and I was wondering if you could tell me exactly where I am."

            "Well," The man said, "I don't really know how to explain the exact coordinates.  The bank is that way, and the pub is that way.  Say, you're American aren't you?"

            "Yes," Gen frowned; the man's directions hadn't helped her at all.

            "How fascinating.  I've never met an American witch before.  Are you from Salem?"

            "No, I'm from Greenhills, Michigan.  Did you say Witch?"

            "Yes," The man seemed a bit taken aback by her answer and question, "you aren't a witch then?"

            "Er," Gen thought fast, "well, what it is, is, where I'm from they call us Wizardesses."

            "Fascinating!  I'd love so much to talk more with you.  Would you be willing to come with me to the Cauldron?  I'll buy you a drink, and we could talk."

            "Okay," she was slightly hesitant with her answer, but she had nowhere else to go, "what'll we do with the car?"

            "You could shrink it," the man said.

            "Shrink it?" Gen was curious, but couldn't conceal the tones of shock in her voice, "it's just that I've never shrunk anything before."

            "What do you mean?"

            "Er…  I don't know a spell for shrinking."

            "Oh, well allow me."  The man pulled a wand from his pocket, and whispered some words in magic.  Within a moment the car fit in the palm of Gen's hand.  She tucked it carefully into her pocket, and then followed the man down the dark road.  They didn't have to walk long before they confronted a solid brick wall in their way.  The man took out his wand, and began tapping the bricks on the wall.  When he finished the bricks shifted, and a great opening appeared in the wall.  The two walked through.  Everything was so familiar to Gen, but she couldn't place where she had seen this before.  The man opened what looked like the back door to a restaurant, and the two stepped in to what looked like a pub, but this inside was quite as dark as the outside, and Gen couldn't really see much.  

            The place was empty, except for what looked like a vampire sitting at a table alone, drinking a distinctly red liquid from a wine glass.  Gen tried to ignore the horrifying image, and the thoughts that went along with it, as she and the man, who she decided to guess was a warlock, sat at a table near the bar.  A strange looking man with a toothless smile walked over to where the two sat. 

            "What'll it be Herman?" the man asked.

            "The Usual," the man answered. His name is Herman, Gen thought, almost wanting to laugh.

            "And you?" the man looked at Gen.

            "Thanks, I don't drink," Gen didn't want to even try to order a drink.  Goodness knows what people of the sort would put into it.  She didn't really want to end up drinking a martini with an eyeball floating in it.  Plus it wasn't really a lie.  She didn't drink.  It was illegal, plus it was against her parents' rules.  The man walked away, and Herman turned to Gen.

            "I'm Herman Teacup, by the way."

            "I'm Genevere Bangle," Gen smiled, trying not to laugh.

            "How old are you?"

            "Fourteen," Gen said, her smile vanishing, as she realized how strange it must be for a fourteen year old witch to be talking with a middle aged Warlock.  She should have lied.

            "Hmm… I thought you must have been older.  Do you go to school then?"

            "Er…"

            "The school year must be starting soon.  It is a Hogwarts anyway."

            "Hogwarts," Gen got a brilliant idea, as she realized where she was, "yeah, that's why I'm here.  I'm a foreign exchange student, coming to go to Hogwarts.

            "How splendid.  Then you came to buy school supplies?  The time delay must be what caught you at such a strange hour."  Gen nodded, a yes, not wanting to say the wrong thing, just letting him do all the talking.  The man came back, setting a large mug in front of Herman.

            "Speaking of new Hogwarts students," The man said with a grin creeping onto his face, "guess who came through today, to get his school supplies?"

            "Who?" Herman asked, not even mildly interested.

            "Harry Potter!"  Suddenly Herman was very interested, and the two men began gossiping.  They said a great deal, most of which was information that Gen wasn't really interested in hearing; she knew almost everything there was to know about Harry Potter, though it had been a while since she had read it.  After a time of the two wizards, as she was now certain they were, gossiping, the bar tender (what was his name again?  Oh yeah, Tom) left Gen and Herman at their table.  Gen wasn't very good at lying, but she could do it if she had to.

            "So, tell me, what do American wands look like?"

            "Well," Gen bit her lip, "we don't use wands."

            "Really?"

            "Yeah, we, uh, use our hands."

            "How fascinating!"

            "And we cast spells in the form of chants, rather than a few words."

            "Could you show me?"

            "No!  I mean, its very secretive, and we never show our spell casting to people outside of the clan."

            "Clan?"

            "I'm in the BeauBroom Clan.  We're expert fliers.  Each clan is good at one thing in particular."

            "Fascinating.  So this clan of yours must play Quiddich."

            "No, we play Air hockey," she laughed inwardly at her own joke, "its like muggle hockey, only we play it in mid air."

            "I've never heard of it before.  What kind of currency do you use in America?"

            "We use the same currency as the muggles do, its far less confusing.  We don't have a place like diagon alley to buy wizarding things; we have to go to shops in the muggle world.  Fortunately there is a number of muggles in America who think their wizards, and find it perfectly normal that there are wizarding shops in the middle of their downtowns."

            "Really?"

            "I'm actually quite frightened about shopping in an all wizard place like this.  I don't know that I'll be able to handle the blatant-ness of it."

            "Well, I could help you.  I wasn't planning on staying the night, but its almost morning already, and I might as well help you.  Let me see your list."

            "Er, I don't have one, I lost it."

            "Oh, well then we'll have to make a guess as to what to buy, but I remember most of it from my Hogwarts years.  First thing you'll need is to exchange your American money for our money.  How much do you have?"

            "Some, not much, but, it should do.  I don't really know the exchange rate."

            "That's all right, we'll find out when we get there."  Unfortunately, they wouldn't find out when they got there.  There was a problem, namely that the bank refused to exchange American muggle money for English wizard money, but Gen had an idea.

            "Are you sure you can do it?"

            "Yeah, it's just muggle money."

            Gen watched as Herman tapped the fifty dollars from her wallet with his wand.  Instantly the money doubled, so far so good.  They had realized that 50 dollars wasn't enough to buy Gen school supplies, so they would have to make it into more.  In a few minutes four hundred dollars rested on the palm of Herman's hand.  The two walked casually into the city bank.  It was a muggle bank, and thus Gen understood it, while Herman didn't.  She walked to the counter, and asked the women to exchange her dollars for pounds.  It was a strange twisted plot, but Gen was sure it would work.  The muggle banker took Gen's money, and gave her back British currency, without so much as a thought that the money might be counterfeit.  

            Gen and Herman left Gringotts.  Gen's coin purse was bulging with wizard coins that she had never seen before.  It was early in the morning.  Six or Seven, Gen didn't really know, or care.  They walked down the alley, until they came to Madam Malkin's.  Gen stood on a pedestal as a tailor measured her, and altered a set of robes she had been forced into.  Gen didn't like the school uniforms at all.  Part of it was a skirt.  Gen didn't wear skirts.  As she stood there Gen wondered why her visit to diagon alley was so uneventful, when Harry had met all kinds of people while there for the first time.  Suddenly a girl, much younger than herself, walked in with her parents.  The girl had bushy brown hair, and large teeth.  In an instant Gen was positive that this girl was Hermione Granger.  The two didn't speak the whole time, and Gen disappointedly gave into watching Herman fiddle with his wand that seemed to be acting up.

            After getting three sets of work robes the two moved through the alley to the cauldron shop where they bought one standard sized 2 pewter cauldron, and then went to Ollivanders.  Gen tested wand after wand, and none chose her.  She began to fear that Ollivander would recognize that she wasn't really a witch when finally he decided that she would take a phoenix feather, ebony, twelve inch twelve inch wand that made a book on the desk move an inch when she held it.  Gen was relieved.  

            Following their misadventure at Ollivanders they went to flourish and blotts, which was the first place they met a problem.  Over the years the book list had changed, and neither of them knew what books she would need.  "I'll ask the clerk, I'm sure he's been helping Hogwarts students for days now.  He'll know."  Gen left Herman at the entrance of the shop, and went to the clerk that seemed to be struggling with getting a hold on a book that was dancing about a table of its own accord.

            "May I help you?" the clerk said as he frustrated slammed his hand down on the book, and picked it up, holding it tightly.

            "Yes, um, I'm here to get my books for Hogwarts, and I've misplaced my list."

            "Hmm, what year are you?"

            "First." Gen said though she had meant forth.

            "Good thing, I've helped more first years than anything, its all I remember."

            "Oh, good" Gen gave a sigh of relief at how well her blunder had helped her out.  The clerk guided her around the room, taking books of the shelf at what seemed like random.  By the time he was finished she was laden down with "The Standard Book of Spells," "A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi," "A History of Magic," "Magical Theory," "A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration," "Magical Drafts and Potions," "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," and "The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection."  Gen was glad that she didn't have to buy this many books for regular school.  When they were finished paying for the books Gen still had plenty of money to exchange back, should she want her 50 dollars back.

            Herman took Gen to the station.  He showed her how to get through the barrier, and helped her load her things onto the train.  "Geez Herman, I've grown attached to you, sort of like you were a father to me," The sad fact was, Herman was nicer to Gen than her parents ever were, "what will I do without you?"

            "You'll be fine.  Oh, I wanted to give you something.  I picked it up at the apothecary, and I thought it might help you out.  It's spell absorbent, white sand.  You just cast a spell on it, and instead of the spell acting on the sand, is acts on whatever you sprinkle the sand on.  Here."  Herman handed Gen a bottle of sand, and asked her to pour some into a little leather pouch.  He pointed his wand into the pouch, and whispered some words.  The sand turned blue, "This sand will make your car shrink."  He had her pour some into another pouch, and then did the same.  The sand turned purple, "This sand will make your car grow."  He tied the pouches tight, and handed them to Gen.

            "Herman, this is such a good idea!"

            "And you can cast any spell you want on the rest."  Gen hugged Herman, and got onto the train, saying goodbye before disappearing into the Hogwarts Express…

Do you like the Third Chapter?  I thought I would introduce at least one of JK's charaters, so you got to see Hermione for a second.  Please R and R.  The next chapter will be up by Friday, if not by Wednesday.  Much Love!


	4. Chapter Four: The Hogwarts Express

The Hogwarts Express

            Gen sat alone in her compartment of the train.  The train wouldn't leave for a time, and she figured that in a few minutes she would no longer be alone.  If she was to take the trip alone she probably would have been happy.  Gen didn't really know what she would do if someone tried to talk to her.  She didn't think it would be wise to say she was a foreign exchange student, as she was coming in as a first year.  She also didn't want to explain her American accent.  She decided that she wouldn't acknowledge if anyone cam into the compartment.  She would pretend to be absorbed in doing something.  Gen opened her trunk, pulled out a spell book, and began to read from it.  She was halfway down the page when she saw, out of the corner of her eye, someone enter the compartment.

            "Do you mind if I share this compartment with you?" a young, but stern, female voice said.  Gen just shook her head.  The girl heaved her trunk into the luggage storage thing, and sat down opposite Gen. "I'm Hermione Granger," There was an awkward silence, which Gen ignored.  "So," the girl attempted to begin a conversation, "you're reading 'The Standard Book of Spells," Gen nodded, "Interesting book.  I read it, mostly."  Gen looked up.  It was Hermione, again.  How could she have read the book when Gen had just seen her at Diagon Alley?  Gen was about to speak.  She opened her mouth, and the words were on the tip of her tongue, when she panicked, and stopped herself, choking on saliva, and going into a coughing fit.  Hermione watched her nervously.  

            When Gen finished she whispered hoarsely, "I have a cold," and pointed at her throat.  She was sure that her quiet voice made it impossible for Hermione to suspect her of not being British.  This gave Gen time to make a plan.

            "Oh!" Hermione frowned, "how awful!  To think you'll be starting off at school sick.  I'd just die of nerves, though I'm very nervous as it is!"  Hermione began to talk very fast, and Gen listened, nodding her head, and making appropriate expressions on her face.  In a few minutes a short, round-faced boy walked in.

            "Can I share this compartment with you?" He asked in a nervous mouse-like voice that reminded Gen very much of Herman. 

            "Certainly," Hermione smiled, seeming glad that she would have someone to talk to who could actually talk, "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

            "Neville Longbottom!" He sat down, and looked at Gen, "And you are?"

            "She's sick," Hermione explained in hushed tones, as if Gen couldn't hear her, "She lost her voice."

            "Oh, rotten luck!" Neville looked at the ground, as if he suddenly had nothing to say, "so… either of you got a pet?"

            "No," Hermione said promptly, "Mum didn't think I could handle one on my own; codswallop in my opinion."  

            So this is how it happened, Gen thought.  She had never known, or cared really how Hermione came to know Neville, but it suddenly seemed like a big deal.  It was most interesting.  "I've got a toad," Neville grinned, "His name is Trevor.  Want to see him?"

            "Absolutely!" Hermione stared fascinated as Neville searched his pockets.  Her expression dropped as he came up with empty hands.

            "Maybe I left him in my trunk," Neville said hopefully, as if trying to make himself sound like he believed this.  Hermione and Neville worked together to heave Neville's trunk onto the ground, then Neville opened it.  For a minute Neville rummaged about in his trunk, his expression changing from that of disappointment, to one of fear.  After a moment he stopped searching, and his chin sagged to his chest, "Trevor's lost!"

            Hermione frowned, and put her hand on Neville's shoulder comfortingly, "Don't worry, he can't be far.  Lets go look for him."  Neville nodded, and wiped his nose on his sleeve.  The two got up, and walked to the door, Hermione turned back, "are you coming?"  Gen just shook her head, "Well then, would you save our seats?"  Gen nodded, curtly.  It wasn't long before Neville and Hermione were gone that two girl walked into the compartment.

            "Do you mind if we share this compartment," one asked.  It was the moment of truth.  Gen had to tell them to leave, but she was afraid to speak.  She hadn't decided what story to use as her back up, or what accent to use.  She took a deep breath and mustered all the strength she could.

            "Sorry," she chose a strange accent that was different from anyone she had met, but not so different for anyone to think it was strange; she chose a Scottish accent, or at least what she thought a Scottish accent sounded like, "These seats are saved."  The two girls left quickly, hoping to find a new compartment.  After that no one entered the compartment for a long while.  At one point a distinctly red haired young boy walked past, glancing in for a moment, but quickening his pace as he saw that a girl inhabited the compartment.  The name Ron Weasely filled Gen's mind, but after he was gone she sort of forgot about him.  She quickly busied herself with pulling her trunk clumsily down, and opening it.  She quickly rummaged through the trunk, and came back with a black composition book, a quill, and inkbottle.  She sat down on her seat, and flipped the notebook open, carefully dipping her quill in the inkbottle, before setting it on the windowsill.

_Test Drive One:_

_            Model: 1_

_            Place of launch: Downtown, my world_

_            Date of launch: July 3rd, 2002, the dead of night_

_            Place of landing: Diagon Alley, JK Rowling's world of Harry Potter._

_            Date of landing: August 30th, Year unknown, the dead of night_

_            Notes:_

_-Flight was difficult, and unsteady_

_-I'm beginning to think perhaps the machine isn't stable_

_-I have decided to name the machine, the bridge, as it bridges the gap between dimensions, thusly the name of this model is "The Model 1 Bridge."_

            Gen took her quill away from the paper, and decided to leave the rest of the page blank for more notes, that she would add later.  She flipped to the next page, and dipped her quill in the ink again.  She scratched out a journal entry between August 30th, and 31st, as that was the current date in the world she was in.  It had taken Gen some quick calculations to figure out the date.  She was a super genius, and she only had to remember the date the Hogwarts Express left, and recalled the words "The last day of August."  As Gen finished describing the conversation Hermione and Neville had had, the two returned.

            "We're almost to Hogwarts," Hermione said, "You might want to put your robes on."  Gen nodded, as she closed her composition book, and shoved it in her trunk before anyone could question her.  She pulled her robes on over her clothes, and then deck-changed into her gray skirt, button-up white shirt, gray vest, and Hogwarts tie.  Neville's face was red the whole time, and he didn't watch, though he wouldn't have been able to see a thing.  A voice echoed through the train, "We will be reaching Horwarts in five minutes' time.  Please leave your luggage on the train it will be taken to the school separately."  The train slowed, and then stopped.  The three left their compartment, and stepped out onto the sidewalk at the platform.  It was cold, and Gen shivered, despite her heavy cloak, and sweater.  Over the heads of the crowd Gen saw a very tall, and shaggy man.  _Hagrid_, Gen thought.

            "Firs' years, firs' year!" Hagrid called…  Gen could have predicted everything that happened for the next half hour.  Everything that happened to her when she was in the same general group with Harry happened in the book.  Hagrid herded them into little boats, and they moved swiftly, and eerily across the lake.  The boats docked somewhere beneath the castle that lit up the horizon.  Then Professor McGonagall gathered the first years into a room, where the school ghosts met them.  Gen was the only first year not to be frightened by the sight.  After that haunting experience they were lead into the Great Hall, and the sorting began.  Gen made mental notes of everything she saw, and heard, so that she could write everything in journal later, providing nothing went wrong.  

            The sorting went by far too quickly, and before long Gen was the last person standing with McGonagall.  McGonagall looked at Gen with a strange look on her face, and then checked the list again.  "Follow me," McGonagall said in a strange tone…

Fourth Chapter, tell me what you think?  Sorry it took so long to post, I was a bit preoccupied.  I hope you have fun reading.  More fun to come, as Gen nears Hogwarts… okay, so she's already at Hogwarts, but there'll be fun.  Next chapter soon, maybe Friday.


	5. Chapter Five: The Sorting Hat

The Sorting Hat

            Professor McGonagall led Gen into her office, she clapped her hands, and a fire roared to life, then indicated a chair for Gen to sit in.  Gen remained standing.  Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, and looked at Gen wonderingly as she sad behind her great desk, and set the sorting hat down on the table.

            "I suppose I should explain who I am," Gen started, with more confidence than she really had, dropping all hopes of faking a Scottish accent, as she wasn't sure if it sounded Scottish of French.

            "No," McGonagall said assuredly, "Professor Dumbledor wants to deal with you personally.  I have brought you here to wait for him.  Please sit down," again McGonagall indicated the chair.  Gen sat, wondering how McGonagall had already conversed with Dumbledor about her presence, when she had been there ever since McGonagall first found her to be an imposter.  "Are you hungry?" Mc Gonagall asked kindly.

            "No, not really," Gen was never hungry.  She couldn't remember ever being hungry in her whole life.  It might have been that she was almost always eating, for which she thanked god for a fast metabolism.

            Gen and McGonagall sat, staring at each other for a long time.  Gen was beginning to wonder if the feast was over yet, when the door opened and Dumbledor entered. "Thank you Minerva," he said, and McGonagall nodded, "now, if you please, I'd like to talk to Miss Bangle alone."  McGonagall nodded again, and got up to leave, taking the sorting hat in her hand.  "No," Dumbledor said, "leave it, I'll return it to my office later."  McGonagall nodded a third time before leaving.  Gen was still wondering how he had known her name when Dumbledor spoke again, "I am Albus Dumbledor, I believe you already knew that."  He sat behind McGonagall's desk.

            "I'm Genevere Bangle, and I'm wondering how you know that," she said cheekily.

            "You, miss, are trespassing," Dumbledor said seriously.  Gen bit her lip.  She had no answer to his comment, and no way to retort as she had before.  "Are you aware of the consequences of your actions?"  Gen looked down at her feet, "still, it's most interesting that you made your way this far.  To decide your fate, I'm going to use this hat."  Gen watched in wonder as Dumbledor stood, and picked up the sorting hat.  He walked to where Gen sat, and dropped the sorting hat on her head, over her eyes.  Gen looked at the black inside of the hat.  This has got to be a major transmitter of lice, Gen thought.

            "Hmm…" a voice echoed in Gen's mind, "I see you underwent quite a journey.  The first of its kind, if I'm not mistaken.  You built that contraption on your own?  It's surprising that you survived!  Either you're very brave, or very stupid.  Strangely enough you don't seem to be both.  Your intentions were good… I commend you on actually taking such a risk in the name of exploration, whatever your intentions.  Hmm… fear.  I sense fear in going back; fear, but still a willingness to do so.  You fear going, because you aren't sure of where you'll end up.  According to your theory restarting the machine might take you anywhere, and you certainly don't want to be thrown across the dimensions, not knowing where you're going a second time.  

            "Perhaps you would rather stay here, and test out the machine, to prove your theory, before giving yourself to the dogs.  What's that…?  You want to take classes as a first year?  But who's to say if you're a witch or not?  Intriguing that you would request something like that.  Well then, I suppose if that is what you think best… Now then, what house to put you in?  Hmm… You have a great thirst for knowledge, no hiding that, and your ability to acquire it is substantial… better be RAVENCLAW!"

Okay, I know this chapter was like uber short.  The next chapter is coming soon.  Much love!  Please R&R!


	6. Chapter Six: Secret Meetings

The Secret Meetings

            Dumbledore took the hat from Gen's head, "bewildering," he set the hat on the desk, walking to the other side of it, and sitting, "most bewildering."  He dipped a quill into an inkwell on the desk, and quickly scrawled something on a piece of paper.  He finished, and snapped his fingers.  In an instant, out of nowhere came what Gen thought looked rather like a large rodent that Gen realized to be a house elf as soon as it spoke.

            "Yes sir?"

            "Take this note to Professor Flitwick," Dumbledore said handing the note to the house elf, "tell him it should be read immediately," the house elf was gone in the blink of an eye, "you" he looked to Gen, "follow me."  He led her out of McGonagall's office, and then down a strange winding network of corridors into what looked like dungeons.  After a moment they came to a heavy wooden door, and Dumbledore knocked.  There was a grunted "come in" from inside, and Dumbledore pulled the great, wooden door open.

            Beyond the door was a huge dungeon, about the size of a four-car garage.  Within the room there were no desks as Gen had expected.  There was nothing save a stone basin, and a wooden cupboard in the room.  Standing beside the wooden cupboard was a rather short man who Gen knew to be Flitwick.  He was holding a wrought iron candlestick, and candle.  On the other side of the room, hunched over the basin was a black-haired man with a hooked nose, who Gen knew to be Snape.  Gen and Dumbledore entered the room, and the words "student-teacher conference" ran across Gen's mind.  Snape straightened, looking at Gen with vague interest.  Flitwick walked closer to the center of the room where the two stood, and watched Gen excitedly as if at any moment she might do some fantastic trick.  She, recognizing his stare, made a quick jerky, spastic maneuver.  Flitwick jumped, Snape stared, and Dumbledore ignored it.  Gen was used to mixed reactions, as she found it amusing to do random things just to get those mixed reactions.

            "The machine please," Dumbledore said calmly.  Gen hesitated, not wanting to show them her machine, and wondering how they knew about it.  She changed her mind when she got a stern, and somewhat frightening look from Dumbledore.  Walking to the center of the room she took the car from pocket, and set it in the center of the room.  She artfully, as to not let the others see, took the pouch of purple sand from her pocket, and sprinkled a tiny pinch onto the car.  She took three steps back as the car began to grow.  Dumbledore was unmoved by the sight, but Flitwick and Snape watched in awe, as her machine became full size.  It wasn't as if they had never seen a growing spell, it was just that they hadn't thought Gen was a witch.  Gen still didn't think she was a witch, but it was fun to make other people think she was.  When the car was full size Gen opened the door, and reached to take her things off the seat, as they had been left there by accident.

            "So," Snape looked at it interested, but almost irritated, "how does it work?"

            "Well," Gen chewed the insides of her cheeks, deciding that if they were going to act like they knew what the machine did, and like it was perfectly normal to have a machine of the sort she would act the same, "it's quite simple really.  It's based off of the results of a series of tests I conducted over the last few months.  Basically, its schematics are rather easy to explain with pictures, rather than words," Suddenly out of nowhere there appeared a great blackboard along one wall, "but… I'd rather skip over the schematics, and explain it in layman's terms," the black board disappeared, "basically the machine uses hover capabilities, and a manual steering system, that uses a rudimentary rudder.  See, I stole, er, found three hover engines.  It was a lucky chance that I found them, with out I would have had to run the machine on a much more complicated system.  I think the military was testing them for something or other…" no one questioned her, "anyhow, I made two stationary on the bottom of the car, to make it go up, and one pivots at the will of the driver to make it go forward, or side to side.  It has no reverse.  I would need another hover engine to do that.  Anyway, The heart of the machine is here," Gen walked to the front of the car, and unlatched the double-doored engine compartment, "its relatively small, and doesn't really contain all of the mechanics, but inside here is the machine that created enough energy to run the hover engines.  I use my own revolutionized system of steam pistons, that is much more efficient than the original.  It conserves electricity, and doesn't pollute the environment, as its heated by a hot plate, deep in the underbelly of the machine.  The only thing I have to fill it up with is water, which it takes quite a lot.  There are three water storage gallons under the seat of the car that are connected directly to the heating area.  When I run out of water I know because there's this hideous screeching sound that makes you want to scream out in pain.  Otherwise the whole thing is practically sound proof, so it doesn't attract _too_ much attention.  That's basically it."  Gen nodded her head, as she went through a mental checklist, making sure that was the whole of it.

            "Do you mean to tell me," Snape said indignantly, "that dimension travel is that simple?  That you simply have to have a few hover engines, and you can easily travel between worlds?  Impossible, if it was that easy, we would have discovered it long before now."

            "Well," Gen was red in the face, angry and sad at his mocking her, "that's how the physical part of it works.  If you're going to be rude about it I wont explain it so obligingly."  Snape opened his mouth to retort, but Dumbledore put out his hand, signaling for Snape to be still.  Snape bit his tongue.

            "Miss Bangle," Dumbledore said calmly, "it is very important to us to know how you did this.  We've known about the existence of multiple dimensions for some time, but we have never managed to travel between them.  We feel that should we be able to gain this knowledge, we might be able to protect it, so that Voldemort," Flitwick quivered at the name, "might not get his hands on it before we do.  You've brought this great gift to us at a terrible time where it might be used wrongly.  It might be found and used by the dark lord, who is as we speak rising in power!"  At that very moment McGonagall walked in, flanked by a short woman with matted hair, Sprout, and a very pale, young man in a turban, Quirrell.  Gen was about to laugh at the irony, but bit her lip, afraid that she would have to explain herself.

            "Perhaps then," Gen said, choosing her words carefully, she had a feeling the three already knew exactly what had been said in the conversation, "I shouldn't tell anyone.  Perhaps if I never spoke it aloud there would never be a danger of Voldemort finding it."  Every teacher in the room, save Dumbledore and Snape shuttered as she spoke his name, but said nothing.  Quirrell looked rather put out about Gen's answer.

            Dumbledore looked at her questioningly, but seeing the particular look she had in her eye he decided she knew what she was doing, "very well.  We won't ask again for your knowledge.  This dungeon will be your workroom for the rest of the year.  At the end of the term we will be expecting you to be finished with your experiments, and ready to leave.  Until then you will play the role of 'first year Ravenclaw, Genevere Bangle, daughter of Miranda, and Luther Bangle,'" (Gen's parents' names were Laura and Bob), "This will be known to be a wealthy, powerful family living in Wales.  Professor Flitwick you can take it from here." 

            With that the other teachers left Gen and Flitwick in the dungeon.  Flitwick began quickly explaining all of her sleeping accommodations, and how the next year of her life would be managed.  She would spend her day times in classes, taking notes on the differences between worlds, and, should she choose, study magic to learn if she was capable of doing it.  She would spend the afternoons, and weekends experimenting, and, should she choose, doing her homework.  She would be well fed, and well protected from "you know who." Gen didn't want to point out that one of the people protecting her would be Voldemort, in a way.  She didn't want to explain that, and throw the whole book off.  When Flitwick was finished explaining the whole pattern for her life to come he pulled a key from his robe, and unlocked the cabinet in the corner of the dungeon.  Inside were shelves and shelves of a great number of things, mostly potion components, but also strange, magical looking tools.  Each thing in the cabinet had a label on it, so that she wouldn't get confused.  He showed her how to use the running water in the stone basin, and exactly how to used a great lever that magically appeared in the corner of the room, to raise, and lower the car from and to the ground.  When that was all cleared up he started casting enchantments on her that would bind her to the school so that no one could kidnap her, enchantments that would give her a British accent, and enchantments that would help her find her classes easily, and always be on time.

            After they were finished in the dungeon they left it, and walked along the corridors, heading steadily upwards.  He told her that she would have free reign of the school, including after hours, and the restricted section of the library.  That she would be aloud into all the common rooms, to better study the world around her, and she would be aloud to ask him, or any of the other teachers for anything she needed.  The entrance to the Ravenclaw common room was a silver coat of arms.  It stood tall and bright, but when you said just the right word he'd step aside, and the paneling of wall behind him would disappear.  Behind him was a great pentagonal room with enormous lounge chairs in assorted blue colors all about the room.  The walls were lined with yellow and blue tapestries of the Ravenclaw coat of arms, and on two of the five walls were great fireplaces that had burnt jolly and bright hours before, but were at the time smoldering ash, in the cut stone.  The other three walls had a door on them.  One led to the girls' dormitories, one led to the boys' dormitories, and the third led back past the suit of armor.  From there Flitwick left her to head up to her dormitory where her things were already set up neatly.

~ * ~

            Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Quirrell all stood about in Dumbledore's office.  After leaving Flitwick with Gen they had gone straight there, and had been for a long time.  They were discussing the sorcerer's stone.  Earlier that week the enchantments had at last been placed on the dungeon where the stone was hidden, and no teacher knew the exact plans of the others.  There seemed to be some argument about the enchantments holding up or not.  After a few moments the office was in an uproar of professors yelling at each other about whether or not it would work.

            "It will hold!" Dumbledore said at last over the turmoil, striking the teachers with fear, and bringing them to silence, "we have no reason to fear that the stone is in any danger.  You are all simply going on the speculation that Voldemort might happen to pop up.  But why should he?  This is merely a precautionary measure.  You all seem to forget that Hogwarts is the safest place in the whole world.  Now is not the time for fear."  The room went silent.  Several cast their eyes on the ground, saying nothing.  It was at that precise, and awkward moment that Flitwick walked in.  He didn't notice the painfully uncomfortable silence, and quickly began speaking.

            "I'm so excited about all this!" Flitwick was bursting with happiness, "Not only do with have Mr. Harry Potter studying with us this year, but we have the first ever student from another dimension.  I can hardly believe our luck!"

            Snape had never thought about it before, but that was a lucky chance.  But who was it a lucky chance for.  If Voldemort was to return now would be the time.  He would want his revenge on Harry Potter before he became to knowledgeable of magic, he would want the Elixir of Life to bring him back to power, and he would want the key to dimension travel.  Everything seemed to be falling right into the Dark Lord's lap.  How could this all be?  It seemed like everything had worked out perfect for this one purpose, but how could Voldemort possibly control the happenings in another realm.  Was it all some lucky coincident?  Snape dismissed the thought for the time, but decided to keep it always in the back of his mind to chew, waiting for an answer.

            Little more was said in the secret meeting.  After a time Dumbledore dismissed the professors, and one by one they left.  Dumbledore sat alone in his office.  He pulled the top left drawer open, and retrieved a blown-glass ball.  It was large, but fit nicely within his fingertips.  He set the ball on his desk.  It was perfectly round, but somehow did not role about.  Inside the glass was nothingness, but as Dumbledore looked into it images filled it, and he saw the inside of a Ravenclaw dormitory.  Dumbledore watched over as Gen sat with her knees against her chest, a notebook resting on them.  She wrote scratchily on the pages of the notebook with a quill and green ink…

~ * ~

            Gen slowly but surely finished her accounts of everything that had happened to her after she left the train.  It had been a long day.  She was sure it had been 24 hours since she left her world.  In all that time she hadn't slept, and she didn't expect to get any sleep at all that night either.  She couldn't sleep, even if she wanted to.  Mentally she was so tired, but for some reason her body just kept going.  It was as if time meant nothing to her.  It was very strange indeed.  As Gen finished up her journal entry she gently blew on the wet ink on her paper, and then closed the notebook.  She set the composition book on her nightstand, next to an old-fashioned alarm clock, that she knew she wouldn't be using.  She had set it to wake her at seven the next morning, but she didn't think that she would be asleep by then.  The clock told her that it was already midnight.

            Gen got up from her bed, and walked to the nearest window.  There were three windowpanes, and a window seat that curved outwards in small turret type thing.  Gen sat on the window seat, and opened one of the windowpanes, looking out into the night.  She missed Morg.  Sometimes, during the summer he would come over to her house, and they would have a sleep over.  Gen's parents weren't too protective of her, and allowed her to do whatever she wanted.  Even if Morg and Gen _were_ having sex at these sleepovers they wouldn't have cared.  This was, however, not the case.  

            Gen missed that all of a sudden.  She missed Morg.  She didn't really miss anyone else.  Her sister was a perfectionist, her brother was snotty, her parents didn't care about her, but Morg was a different story, he actually cared about her.  He was the only one.  Believe me, Gen wasn't being selfish, and spoiled when she acted like no one loved her, she wasn't doing it for attention, it was the honest truth.  No one did care about her. Gen didn't cry about it though.  She never did.  She cried a lot, but never for that exact reason.  A lot of it was probably connected with, and caused, subconsciously by it.  But she always had some other explanation.  Her tears were wasted, as there was never anyone to make it all better, even Morg couldn't do that.  Gen cried silently as she looked out into the night sky, and before long the sun was peaking over the horizon…

Hooray for the sixth chapter!  Please, Please, PLEASE tell me what you think!  Much love, the next will be coming soon, and I promise lots of fun to come with your favorite Tree House Gang!

(If you don't know what a tree house gang is it's a group of three people, two guys, and one girl.  It's used mostly for comic relief.  The one I'm referring to is Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  Other examples of a tree house gang is Leia, Luke, and Han from Star Wars, or Dave, Corey, and Julie **shutters** (sorry inside joke), um… **thinks** what's another tree house gang… um… can't think, I'll get back to you.)


	7. Chapter Seven: The First Day of Classes

**The First Day of Classes**

            At roughly eight o'clock the student body filtered into the grand hall for breakfast.  Gen was there an hour before the rest, and was gone before she saw a single student enter the hall.  After leaving the grand hall she wandered about, somewhat aimlessly, trying to find something to occupy herself with.  She didn't want to work on the machine; her sadness was still on her mind.  Before long she found herself at the entrance of the library.  This would most certainly do.  Gen wandered about for a time before selecting a book entitled "Hogwarts, A History," and plopping down in at an uninhabited table.  She began to read it intently, and within a half hour she was halfway through the four-inch thick book.  It was at this point that Gen looked up, and noticed two eyes on her.  

            At one point, in the middle of Gen's power reading session Hermione Granger had come in, and was now sitting directly across from Gen.  "He-hello?" Gen asked an awestruck Hermione.

            "Did you just do what I think you did?"

            "Uh…" Gen didn't know what to say, "What did I do?"

            "Did you just read all that?"

            "Yeah…" Gen looked at Hermione confused.

            "It took me all day to read that far!"

            Gen suddenly noticed that Hermione was holding the exact same book.  She laughed, "It's called power reading.  Good for cramming, but not so great for novels."

            Hermione blinked, "oh… right," Hermione said trying to sound not so dumbfounded as she was, "So, I never caught your name."

            "Oh, then you remember me from the train," Gen smiled, sticking out her hand for Hermione to shake, "Genevere Bangle, but you can call me Gen, or Genna."  Hermione took Gen's hand, and shook it.

            "So, what house did you get sorted into?"

            Gen wondered if Hermione was oblivious to the Ravenclaw crest on Gen's robes, or if she just wanted to make conversation, "Ravenclaw.  I see you've been put into Gryffindor."

            "I'm pleased with it," Hermione said, glad at the change of subject, "I was expecting Ravenclaw, but Gryffindor is good, just as well.  I see you've decided to skip breakfast as well.  The excitement is intense for me too," Gen decided not to say that she had eaten already, "I can't wait for classes to start.  What do you have first?"

            "Charms," Gen said off-handedly, "or maybe its transfigurations… You know one of the two.  I don't really have an agenda, but I'm sure whatever class I have first I'll get to fairly easily, and on time too."

            "Eh…" Hermione began to question this strange answer, but Gen didn't want to explain.

            "Anyway," Gen cut in, "I've met almost all the teachers.  The only ones I haven't are Binns, and uh… Trelawney."

            "Who's Trelawney?"

            "Heh, that's in the third book, I mean year, sorry disregard that," Gen laughed nervously.

            "Okay…?" Hermione looked up, to where there was a clock on the wall, "rats!  I have to get to class.  Maybe I'll see you there.  In any event, I'll see you at one point." Hermione smiled as she gathered her things to go.  A few minutes after she was gone Gen decided she might as well start for class.  She once again wandered out into the hall, and moved about aimlessly.  It wasn't a minute before she realized she was no longer walking, but sitting in a desk in the front of a classroom.  The teacher, she was pleased to note was McGonagall, therefore the class must be Transfigurations.  Gen sat there quietly for a moment, and after a time Hermione walked into the class as well.  She saw Gen sitting there, and did a double take.  After she decided that Gen was really sitting there she walked over to her, and set her things on the desk beside Gen.

            "This seat taken?" She asked with a smile.  Gen couldn't believe it, she had actually, for the first time in her life made a friend at school who actually didn't think she was a total psychopath.  It probably had something to do with the whole school teaching witchcraft, but Gen overlooked that.

            "It is now," Hermione sat down, and in an instant she was quickly joined by Neville who sat on her other side.  Gen felt strange.  For the first time in her life, when she had a class without an assigned seating chart people were actually sitting next to her.  She pretended like this was no big deal, and after a few minutes of aimless socializing the class started.  McGonagall started off by explaining to the class the difficulties of transfiguration, after which she explained the importance of it to each witch, or wizard, then she demonstrated its coolness by transforming herself into a cat on top of her desk.  It was at about that time that Harry and Ron came running into class late.

            "Fewwww!" Harry said, "we made it!"

            "Can you imagine the look on McGonagall's face if we were late?!?" Ron was just saying when suddenly McGonagall leapt off her desk, and transformed in mid air into a human again, "that was bloody brilliant!"

            "Why thank you Mr. Weasley, for that assessment!" McGonagall proceeded to scold the two, which Hermione shook her head at, but Neville and Gen laughed at.  After their scolding Ron and Harry sat down behind Gen and Hermione.  "Now," McGonagall said, "Today we'll be attempting to turn these matches," she said holding up a large matchbox, "into needles.  Before you get your match open your books to page four of your 'A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration' and read the lab instructions, and than do the pre-lab write up.  After you finish with that bring me your write up, and I'll give you your match to get started."

            Gen read the lab instructions in ten seconds flat, and wrote her pre-lab hastily in her tidy, but slanted scrawl.  She was the first person to walk to the front of the room, and ask for a match.

            "Finished already are we Miss Bangle?" McGonagall smiled over the rims of her glasses, "perhaps I was wrong about you."  McGonagall initialed Gen's paper, and handed her a match, as Gen wondered what she had meant.  Did McGonagall think that Gen was an idiot?  How could an idiot build a machine like Gen's?  Gen walked to her desk with the match, and sat down, at which point Hermione was finished with her pre-lab.  Gen got out her wand, and began attempting to follow the directions from the book.

            Hermione returned to her desk, and started doing the same as Gen. Neither of them were successful.  For a long time they focused on the matches, trying to make some strand of magic come out of their wands.  Eventually the other students had their own matches, and their wands out.  Seamus Finnigan eventually lost his patience, and began waving his wand about wildly, before McGonagall warned him that if he didn't stop she would transfigure him into a needle.  He quickly subsided to pretending to pay attention to his match, while daydreaming.  By the end of class no one had managed a needle, but Hermione's match was sort of silver, and pointy.  McGonagall commended her.

            The second class of Gen's day turned out to be Potions.  Gen had been dreading this class, as she never really liked the character of Snape in the books.  Somehow Gen ended up in the front of the classroom.  She seemed to have potions with Hufflepuff.  When the class started Snape didn't seem too happy to be teaching.  It was almost as if because Slytherin wasn't there he didn't want to be teaching at all.  Like he only enjoyed teaching his own students.  Gen decided then that she liked him even less.  He started to tell them all exactly why they were idiots, and they were probably a waste of his time.  Gen was becoming seriously irritated.  They spent the rest of the class reading the section on a potion they would be making the next day.  Their homework would be doing the section review for the section.  Gen, being as fast a reader as she was, finished the assignment.  Fifteen minutes before the end of class she took her assignment up to Snape, asking for him to take it early, and if she might be able to do something constructive for the last quarter of the class period.  He took her paper from her irritated, and scanned it with his quill an inch from the page, looking for errors.  He found none.  After a bewildered moment he marked her perfect score into his grade book, and told her she could sit quietly in her desk, and do what she would.  She chose to read from her potions book.  This seemed to bewilder him even more, as if no student outside of his house had ever shown that kind of initiative.  At the end of class he awarded Ravenclaw five points, and Gen wondered if she was right to dislike him as a teacher.  He seemed fair enough.

            After potions was Defence Against the Dark Arts.  Gen decided to boycott doing her work, or even paying attention in this class, as the irony of it was way to amazing for her, and she simply couldn't respect a man who taught her what she knew he didn't follow.  She decided to take her right to not study magic, and completely ignore Quirrell.  This class she had with Slytherin, and she found it most amusing that she was sitting next to Malfoy.  She noticed right away that he was paying no attention to the lesson either.  They spent the period making fun of Quirrell, and making up "you know you've been in DADA too long when" jokes.  Some of them were funny; most of them were only mildly amusing.

            The fourth class of the day was Charms, which was with Gryffindor.  She found herself sitting next to Ron, who was next to Hermione.  Gen herself was partnered with Neville.  On their first day of class they simply listened to a rather squeaky lecture from Flitwick on the importance of charms.  He demonstrated the importance of charms to the class by showing them several that they would learn later in the year, and some they would learn later in their time at Hogwarts.  Gen recognized most of them from the books, and decided the Flitwick was right, they would definitely use them later on.  In fact they would use them quite a lot.  By the time his lecture was over there were only five minutes left in class, so they packed up their things, and sat quietly.

            "Genevere Bangle."

            "Ron Weasely," the two shook hands, "Where are you from?"

            "Wales," Gen said offhandedly, "me mum and dad own an old castle overlooking a lake in the southernmost parts of the countryside."

            "Oh," Ron didn't seem to like this much, and he didn't continue to speak.

            "Sometimes I wish they didn't," Gen said honestly, "if my family wasn't so rich maybe they'd care about me, or at least notice that I'm alive."  She hadn't said this to make Ron feel better, it was the honest truth.  She did wish her family wasn't quite so rich, though she didn't know if this would really solve her problem or not.  Either way this made Ron seem more at ease.  "Where do you live?" she asked, though she knew the answer.

            Ron shrugged, "in a little house in the middle of nowhere.  Mostly to keep the muggles away, but we're not really rich." He frowned.

            "Trust me," Gen said with a smile, "you're better off.  I could run away from home, and my family wouldn't no the difference.  They probably wouldn't think anything was wrong until a maid asked them why I hadn't been messing my room up lately."  Gen frowned at the thought.  How long would it take them to realize she was gone?  Did they already know?  What if traveling across dimensions was like traveling at the speed of light, and when she came back they would all be a hundred years older.  What if when she went back there was no Morg.  What if she never saw him ever again?

            "What's the matter?" Ron asked as Gen's eyes filled with tears.

            "Nothing," Gen lied, and wiped a tear from her eye, "I just miss them."

            "Your parents?" Ron asked.

            "No, not really," Gen sighed, "I feel just about the same toward them as they feel to me.  I don't really care what happens to them.  Goodness that's cold hearted of me.  I hope you don't think me cruel.  I guess I'm just turned against them because I've had to live with them for so long." A tear streaked down her cheek, and Ron reached out to wipe it away.  Gen smiled at him, and he smiled back.  Something in that smile reminded Gen of Morg…

            After Charms was lunch.  It became quickly apparent that no one in Gen's own house really liked her.  They hadn't gotten the much-needed time to bond with her at all the prior night, and thus they were led to wonder whom she was, and why she wasn't at the feast.  Gen was instantly glad that every waking moment of the next several months would be completely occupied with her work.  Lunch was only semi enjoyable, as Gen had no one to talk to, so she finished up quickly, and headed to her next class wherever it might be.  As it turned out the next class was History of Magic, the third, and final class the Ravenclaws shared with the Gryffindors.  Professor Binns, who Hermione listened to eagerly, and took a great number of notes from, taught it.  Gen, like everyone else in the class realized right away that she could learn a great deal more history, a great deal faster from just reading the book, and like everyone else, chose not to act on the fact, and sat with her mind a complete blank for a half hour.

            "What?" there came a loud whisper from somewhere behind Gen. She didn't turn around, though she didn't recognize the voice.  She simply turned all her attention to her ears, and strove to listen.

            "Not so loud Harry," a voice Gen did recognize answered back.

            "Who are you talking about Ron?" Harry asked again, now in a voice barely audible, that he must have been sure Gen didn't hear him.

            "That girl up there," Ron said in an even fainter whisper, "I'm telling you, she's going to be head girl someday!"

            "Who cares?"

            "We were taking bets, and that's mine," Ron said annoyed.

            "What's her name?" Harry asked, "and how much do you bet?"

            "Hermione something," Ron said, "You know, the one from the train."

            "Oh, well who's that one next to her?"

            "Er… on which side?"

            "Left."

            "Genevere Bangle," Ron answered back, "met her today in charms."

            "She's the one McGonagall likes right?"

            "Yeah"

            "Okay, I bet on her."

            "Okay," Ron said with a smile Gen could hear reflect on his words, "ten sickles!"

            "Deal." They shook hands, though Gen couldn't see it.

            "Hah!"

            "What are you laughing at?"

            "Genevere Bangle might look like a focused student, but in Charms she didn't seem like the head girl type to me.  Not bad looking though.  That probably why you bet on 'er. I bet you think she's just the cutest little thing you've ever seen.  I bet you're madly in love with her!"  At this point Gen turned around, and looked at them.  Harry was wide-eyed with embarrassment, Ron was laughing.  Ron proceeded to point to Harry, and mouth the words "HE LOVES YOU," and "HE WANT TO MARRY YOU," while writing little hearts in the air with his fingers.  Gen giggled, and shook her head at the two of them.  Harry attempted to stop Ron by grabbing his hands, and stopping him from writing his little hearts.  Harry was just mouthing "DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!" when Ron's hands broke free, and he started flailing them about wildly.  At this point about half the class was watching eagerly to see the outcome of the strange misadventure.  Professor Binns hadn't noticed a problem yet, he was reading straight from his lesson plan.  Harry stood up, and jumped over his desk to get to the isle when Ron sat.  Ron looked up at his friend who towered over him with mock fear just before Harry pulled him up from his seat.  They started pushing each other back and forth, in what at first was a joking fight, but ended up in real pushes.  It wasn't until Harry pushed Ron to the ground that Professor Binns looked up, and noticed the fight that was already halfway over.  He did little more than reprimand the two, who subsided to their seats, and then resumed teaching, as the class resumed snoring.  Ron wrote a note quickly in an untidy scrawl before crumpling it up, and throwing it at Gen's desk.  It landed right before her, and she was quickly pulled out of her torpor, un-crumpling the note, and reading it.

            _Harry is madly in love with you.  He'd like to take you away to a desert island and do obscene things with you behind a palm tree._

            Gen laughed, and dipped her quill, quickly writing back.

_            Well, you can tell him the feeling is mutual.  Oh baby, oh baby, all night long!_

            She tossed the note back to him.  Ron opened the note, and laughed hysterically.  Harry quickly snatched it up from Ron's desk, reading it quickly, blushing, and throwing it back.  Ron took his quill, and began writing back to her.  He finished his reply, and tossed the note back to Gen.

_            He thinks you've eyes like pools of green (are your eyes green?) and lips like red roses in the wintertime when all else is dead._

_            Actually my eyes are brown._

_            Oh, well in that case, he thinks you've eyes like creamy chocolate, and cherry lips.  He cannot live a day without smelling your sweet sent, and seeing your perfect face.  He wants to hold you in his arms and never let you go.  Oh the agony he is in without you!_

_            Tell him I'm sorry, but my heart belongs to another._

_            Who would that be?_

_            YOU!_

            By the end of the class Ron, and Gen had filled a whole roll of parchment with completely random, and nonsensical conversation.  Gen had a feeling that she would be having a great year, whether or not it profited her in anyway.  History was their last class of the day.  Harry, and Ron walked together to the grand hall.  Gen and Hermione were abreast with them the whole time, though they didn't exchange a single word.  When they got to the grand hall they divided off, and went to their separate house tables.  Gen was sad to leave these new friends of hers.  She ate dinner quickly, and left before all the others, heading for her secret dungeon.

            The first order of business was to go over the machine, and make sure nothing was broken, missing, or detached.  As she went through her mental checklist she subconsciously went over the events of the day, planning a head for the journal entry she would soon make.  She had been quite surprised at the events of the day.  She had made instant friends, gained Snape's approval, made jokes with Draco Malfoy, gotten to know Ronald Weasley, and started uproar.  All in a days work she thought with a laugh before closing the engine compartment back up, surprised there was nothing wrong there.  It sickened Gen to think that she was treating people the age of her kid brother as her peers, and even more sickening to think that she had been joking about being madly in love with them.  When Gen thought of her brother and his friends all she saw was rudeness.  Maybe it was because they were British, maybe it was because they were wizards, or maybe it was a little bit of both.  The difference in maturity between Gen and the other first years was apparent; though Gen was more mature than most people her own age anyways.  Size wise there was hardly any difference.  Gen was more small than she was big, and though she had finished developing, she wasn't very developed.  To put it bluntly she was a flat girl.  No one would be able to tell she wasn't what she appeared, except by her maturity level, and she had just shown that she was childishly easy to amuse.  Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to lie as Gen had expected.  She finished her mental check list, and picked up her composition book, writing a complete journal entry on the day before, and then got to work, planning, and preparing for some experiments she had in mind.  She was so enthralled in her work she hardly noticed the time.  Eventually she realized that she had been there for quite a long time, and got up to leave to her room.  She left the cold, dark dungeons only to find that the sun was already up, and she had worked through the night.  That was the third night she went with absolutely no sleep what so ever.  She began to wonder what was wrong with her, but quickly found herself standing at the portal of her first class of the day, right on time for the lesson…

Seventh chapter, So whadayatink?  This one is pretty long.  It makes up for Chapter five.  I hope you have as much fun reading this as I am writing, and getting reviewsJ this is my first HP fan fic published really.  Anywho, I thought of another tree house gang.  Spongebob, Sandy, and Patrick.  ^_^ Well, please R and R, and sit tight for some more fun with your favorite tree house gang!  PS: I added a majority of that fun with Ron for Piper, I know how much you luv 'im!


	8. Chapter Eight: Flying Lessons with Madam...

**Flying Lessons With Madam Hooch**

            "So," McGonagall whispered into the dark, "the girl has no magical abilities at all you say?"

            "None."

            "We were so sure!  How could we have been wrong about something like this?"

            "I do not know, but I do know that she has been in classes for two weeks, and she still has shown no ability to use the magic she seems to posses."

            "But the power…"

            "I know."

            "Should she learn to harness it that girl could have enough power in her little finger to command the galaxies at her will."

            "Perhaps it is better this way," Dumbledore whispered, moving his face at last into the light, "without the use of her powers she will remain humble.  In time she may yet learn how to use her magic, but we are not the people to show her…"

~ * ~

            Time went by much as it already had.  It was as if that class was a movie preview for the next year of Gen's life.  In Transfigurations Gen sat with Hermione and acted serious, in potions Gen showed off her mad skills to Professor Snape, in Defense Against the Dark Arts Gen and Malfoy made fun of Quirrell, in Charms Gen and Neville failed to make anything happen whatsoever, and in History Ron and Gen passed notes.  Gen quickly made a scrapbook of notes that passed between her and Ron.  It was most amusing.  As it turned out Gen was a terrible witch, in fact she wasn't one at all.  The only thing she managed to actually do was potions.  In fact, she was a wizard at potions.  She was passing all her classes either way, as she did all her work, but it seemed mostly like a waste.  Luckily for her there was one other first year who was similar to her, and perhaps even worse.  Neville Longbottom not only failed to cast spells, but he also failed to make potions.  The only thing he really excelled at was herbology.  This made Gen feel better.  As time went by Gen continued to spend sleepless nights either in her dungeon, or her dormitory.  She found herself writing to Herman Teacup regularly whenever she ran out of ideas of things to do.  When Gen didn't feel like working in her dungeon she would sit in the library, reading just about any book she could, accumulating knowledge about this world she found herself in.

            She decided a while into the first week of school that long hair was too common at Hogwarts, so she and Hermione paid a visit to the bathroom with a pair of scissors.  When they left the bathroom Gen's hair was about the same length as Harry's, and quite nearly as messy.

            About two weeks into the school year a note was posted on the bulletin board in the Ravenclaw common room.  It was about first year flying lessons.  All four of the houses would be learning together.  That would make the class about forty people big.  The fact that the class took place outside probably had something to do with this.  Immediately Gen decided that her best plan of attack was to simply not go.  She had free reign of the school, and she wasn't aloud to do detention, besides what would happen?  She had no grade points to loose.

            The day of flying lessons at lunch Gen was walking to her house table, but was stopped on the way by Malfoy, who was surprisingly not flanked by his flunkies.  "Gen," Malfoy said in a serious tone, "we need to talk."

            "Okay Draco," Gen said, wondering what he might have to say to her.

            "I think you know what this is about."

            "Erm…" Gen raised an eyebrow, "no…"

            "I'm pretty sure that I'm not the only one feeling this connection between us," Gen said nothing, "I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not the only one suffering from the pain of not being together.  Everyday I see you, and we talk, and there's nothing.  I need something.  I need you.  I don't know why, I can't figure any of this out.  I just know that when I see you I'm happy, and when I talk to you I'm happy, and I want for you to be my girlfriend.  I want to hold you, and kiss your sweet lips.  Say something, anything."  Gen had listened to Malfoys whole speech.  There was nothing really to it.  His words were beautiful, but his voice wasn't sincere.  The only pain he felt was that of not being able to satisfy his lust.  Gen knew the difference between love and lust.  Malfoy had a look in his eyes that suggested that if he didn't get sex he would turn to dust as they spoke.  How could a boy at the age of eleven want sex?  Gen's brother was eleven.

            "Draco I…" Gen needed some easy way out of the situation, "I…" it was then that she noticed something over Malfoy's left shoulder.  It was Ron, sitting at the Gryffindor table, listening to the whole conversation.  He was motioning something to her, and mouthing something, but she couldn't see what he was saying, "I er… already have a…" she read his signals, "boyfriend.  He's a… WHAT?!?!" Gen began to laugh at the obscenities that Ron was trying to say through hand signals.  Malfoy's head jerked, and he saw Ron sitting at the Gryffindor table making faces at Gen.

            "Oh," Malfoy said bitterly, "so that's the way it is!  You're with that pathetic excuse for a wizard, that… Weasely!" he spat, "well, you wont hear the end of this!  Not as long as I'm a Malfoy!"  Malfoy marched off to the Slytherin table, and Ron called Gen over.

            Ron seemed to find the whole situation extremely amusing, and insisted that Gen sit by him, and put up a charade.   She had to admit that it was quite funny, and agreed to pretend to be Ron's girlfriend.  Gen sat next to Ron for that Lunchtime.  He kept over exaggeratedly huggeling her, and started making up pet names for her.  They walked to History of Magic together.  He carried her books, after a long argument that Gen lost.  Malfoy watched them leave the grand hall, and aware of the blond-haired boy's bitter gaze Ron put his arm around Gen's shoulder.  He heard grumbling from behind, and smothered a snicker by pressing his mouth to Gen's ear.  She giggled, and pushed him away from her neck, complaining that it tickled.  When they were out of Malfoy's view Ron took his arm away from Gen's shoulder, and gave her back her books.

            It was a Thursday so History of Magic was particularly long that day.  It went by with almost no riotous behavior from Ron, or Harry.  About fifteen minutes before the class let out a crumpled up ball of paper landed on Gen's desk.

_            Look back.  _

            Gen looked behind her only to see Ron looking at her with a mustache, and goatee drawn on his face in green ink, and the similar on Harry's face.  The two boys were pulling faces at her, and she suddenly realized what they had been doing all period instead of passing her notes.  She laughed, and dipped her quill in her inkbottle.

_            Oh, you look mature!_

            Gen crumpled the note up, and tossed it back to Ron.  Who smiled, and wrote something hastily below what she wrote, tossing the note back to her.

_            Meet me outside the boy's bathrooms after class._

_            Why?_

_            NO QUESTIONS WOMAN!_

            Gen laughed, and looked back at him nodding her head, signaling that she would.  After class Gen stood with her books clutched to her bosom.  She could hear Harry and Ron from inside the bathroom, they were laughing, and joking about something, but she couldn't hear over the running water.

            "What are you two doing in there?" Gen asked.

            "Washing our faces," Ron yelled back, "what do you think?"

            "You two are totally nuts!"

            "Drat," Ron said loudly, "it wont come off."        

            "Ah!" Harry screamed, "soap in eye!"  Gen, annoyed, pushed her way into the bathroom, finally getting over the fact that it was a guy's bathroom.

            "You came in!" Ron said in shocked tones.

            "Get over it," Gen said filling her hand with paper-towel, and practically swooping down on Ron, with water and soap, scrubbing the ink off.  He howled with pain, and shock.

            "Stop scrubbing so hard!"

            "We're going to be late for flying lessons!" Gen said huffily.

            The two boys looked at each other suddenly horrified, and said in unison, "FLYING LESSONS!"

            "We totally forgot!" Ron said miserably.

            "We can't miss them, I want to know how to fly!" Harry whined.

            "Well as soon as I'm finished with Ron I'll clean you up too.  I appear to be making progress," she said looking at where she had completely removed a section of his mustache.  Harry began to scrub harder, for fear of ending up with his face in Gen's hands.  He didn't like the sound of Ron howling at her for scrubbing too hard…

            Malfoy seemed extremely irritated when the three came out of the castle together, and he wondered what Gen and Ron had been doing all that time.  Had he known they were in an abandoned Boy's bathroom he probably would have been furious.  The three ran out onto the grass, and joined the others about three seconds before Madam Hooch arrived.  Gen silently praised Flitwick's enchantment.  "Goodmorning class," Madam Hooch said, "welcome to your first flying lesson!  Well, what are you waiting for?  Everyone stand by a broomstick.  Come on, hurry up."  The forty or so students walked over next to their brooms, "stick your right arm out over the broom, and say up."

            "UP," was the general cry from the group.  About three people's brooms actually came to them the first time they commanded.  The three were oddly enough Malfoy, Harry, and Gen. The others had significant trouble.  Ron's broom came up and smacked him in the face, much to Harry's amusement.  Hermione couldn't manage to get her broom to do much more than roll around on the ground.  After a time the first years all held their brooms in their hands.  Madam hooch had them mount their brooms, and instructed them on what to do.

            "When I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground hard, keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly.  On my whistle.  Three… Two…" but Madam Hooch never finished her count down.  Malfoy so kindly gave Neville a nudge forward, and the poor boy went flying off the ground.  Gen didn't really see the whole thing, she found herself tripping over something or other, and landing on the ground.  Ron helped her up just in time to see Neville hit the ground with a crunch.  Madam Hooch took Neville away to the hospital wing with warnings of expulsion should anyone attempt to fly.

            It was then that Malfoy found something.  It was a glass ball.  Malfoy said something about it being Neville's and said a few rude words along with that.

            "Draco give that back!" Gen said earnestly.

            "Or what?  You'll sick your boyfriend on me?" Ron was about to pounce on Malfoy but stopped himself, realizing this would only prove his point.

            "Draco, don't!"

            "I think I will."

            "Will what?" Ron asked.

            "Put it somewhere for Longbottom to find," Malfoy mounted his broom, "how about up in a tree?" he called as he flew away.  Gen mounted her broom, possessed of some spirit she knew not.  She didn't really think she could fly, but something inside her told her to let go of the ground.  Ron mounted his broom beside her, as did Harry, but she was off before them.  She took off, and in an instant she was in the air, completely at one with her broom.  She chased after Malfoy, quickly catching up with him.  They hovered in the air staring each other down.

            "Give it here Draco!" she said, wondering why that line sounded so familiar.

            "Alright then," Malfoy said seeing Ron and Harry speeding their way, "have it your way, I sure hope you can catch!"  He tossed the glass ball high in the air, and Gen watched it, keenly aware of everything around her.  Gen was a pretty clumsy person, but suddenly on a broomstick she felt graceful.  She sped after the glass ball that was quickly gathering speed as it streaked across the sky.  While Gen was chasing the ball Ron and Harry were chasing a fleeing Malfoy, who quickly made it back to the ground, and back to Crabbe, and Goyel.  Ron and Harry landed, keeping a distance, not wanting to end up in the hospital wing with Neville.  Gen dove deep, and hard, reaching forward, snatching the ball out of the air, and pulling up just in time.  She flew back to the crowd, and was met by cheers.  She handed the glass ball to Harry, who offered to give it to Neville.  Her happiness was short-lived, as McGonagall's voice called over the cheers.

            "Who was that I saw flying?" She said coming into the crowd.  Gen wasn't worried, there were no restrictions on her, and she couldn't be expelled.  She was about to admit when Harry spoke up.

            "It was me professor," he said showing her the glass ball in his hand.  Why was Harry protecting Gen?  It didn't make much sense.  Maybe he felt untouchable, as he was the infamous Harry Potter.  Either way McGonagall insisted that Harry follow her away with her into the school.  The only thing that made it possible for McGonagall to mistake Gen for Harry was Gen's now short and messy hair.  She spited the fact that she had such a need to dress outside the norm.  Ron and Gen exchanged looks of great fear for Harry, but it didn't last long because at that very moment Hooch reappeared.  She resumed the lesson, as if nothing had happened, and before long class was over.

            Gen, Ron, and Hermione stormed through the halls, eager to find Harry.  They were, all three of them, shocked to find him waiting for them in the grand hall.  They were even more shocked to hear that he had gotten into no trouble whatsoever, and that he had been appointed Gryffindor's seeker.  Hermione repeatedly announced that she found this utterly unfair, as Harry hadn't really done anything, and he might not be able to fly well at all.  Harry seemed hurt, and the subject was dropped.  As they ate in silence at the Gryffindor table Malfoy walked by, flanked by Crabbe and Goyel.

            "Eating your last meal Potter?  I knew you were stupid, but I didn't think you were so stupid as to get yourself expelled to help out some idiot girl.  I suppose you'll be on a train to go back to the muggles any minute now."

            "You think you're so tough with your little friends around you all the time.  You'd never get caught dead without them, cause you know you'd loose your shirt," Harry was on a roll

            "I'd take you anytime on my own," Malfoy announced, "In face we'll do it tonight, wizards duel, wands only, trophy room, midnight, be there!"  With that Malfoy stormed off

            "Ron," Harry said in a strange, uncomfortable voice, "whats a wizard's duel?"

            "Basically you just cast spells at each other until one of you dies.  Don't worry though neither of you know anything strong enough to do any real damage."

            "Oh, that makes me feel a whole lot better!" Harry said sarcastically before shoveling a spoonful of pie into his mouth…

Eighth chapter!  I'm so excited that this story is actually going somewhere!  I hope you enjoyed it, I know Piper will have, but then it had a little of everything; a bit of drama, a bit of adventure, a bit of comedy.  What more can you ask for huh?  The next chapter is comin' soon.  I feel so bad; I've completely split up the tree house gang V_V.  Oh well, don't you worry it'll all work out for the best later.  Don't you like the twist I put on the original story?  Tell me about it!  I really appreciate reviews, bad and good.  I can handle constructive criticism, not only that, I want it!  Gimmie criticism!


	9. Chapter Nine: Midnight Escapades

Midnight Escapades

            Gen lay awake in her bed.  By this time she had decided that something to do with her being in another dimension made it so that she never got tired, or for that mater hungry.  Mentally she was exhausted, but there was nothing she could do about that, she hadn't slept at all in weeks, and couldn't force herself to at any rate.  At first when Gen heard that Harry had gotten a spot on the Gryffindor team she was bitter, knowing she should have had that spot.  Then she remembered that the books were meant to work out that way.  Gen had a feeling that no matter how much she screwed things up by being there something made everything go back.  It was as if the world could be changed, but it kept itself in check, because it had to mirror the book somewhat.  Gen's second thought on the subject was whether or not Harry could fly at all.  Well, she knew he could fly, but could he fly like she could.  After this thought was dismissed another one took its place.  It was the first time Gen thought about it, but she had flown on a broomstick.  Didn't that count for something?  Didn't that mean she had to be a witch?  Gen was pretty sure that no muggle could ride a broom as she had.  It was as if the broom possessed her body, and took control.  When she was in the air her thoughts went completely blank, and she was one with the broom.  It was some eerie kind of meditation.  Gen's fourth thought was that perhaps she should try out for the Ravenclaw team, but remembered who the Ravenclaw seeker was.  Cho Chang.  She had no chance against the fate of this world, and she was sure that fate would never let her beat out Cho.  It had better plans for her, plans for things that would come in the future.  She decided not to test the fates.

            Suddenly as Gen lay there, daydreaming she had an idea.  She popped up from her bed, and pulled a pair of work robes over her flannel pajamas.  A broomstick, she thought, if it could sustain the weight of a person it could probably sustain the weight of her machine.  Gen ran through the hallways, and out onto the grounds.  She made her way across the grass, her slippers pitter patting on the wet turf.  Before long she reached the broom shed near the Quidditch pitch, and found herself prying its heavy door open.  Inside were dozens of broomsticks, all poor quality, and belonging to the school.  She quickly surveyed the brooms, deciding which was the best of them.  She took a particularly long one, and closed the door to the shed, mounting the broom carefully.  Gen flew with ease several feet above the ground, before reentering the school, still on broom.  She zoomed through the hallways on the stolen school broom, making her way to her dungeon, but she didn't get all the way there.  She stopped about half the way when she ran into Filch, outside the trophy room.

            "Oh," Filch said, "then it was you I heard," Gen was utterly confused, "well, just don't fly in the halls would you?  Try not to break _all_ the rules!"

            "Yes sir," Gen said, dismounting her broom.  She watched as he disappeared around the corner.  It was then that she remembered Malfoy's words.  The four of them were meeting in the trophy room at midnight.  They must have just narrowly escaped Filch.  Gen opened the door, poking her head into the trophy room.  "Ron?" she whispered, "Harry?  Hermione?" she took a step into the room, "Neville?"  There was no answer, but after a minute there was a clatter, and a case in the trophy room opened, allowing two figures to fall to the ground.  Gen didn't want to find out who they were; for she immediately knew it wasn't Harry, Ron, Hermione, or Neville.  Gen turned, and left the room, slamming the door behind her.  She leapt on the broom, and continued to fly, though not in the direction of her dungeon.  She cursed bitterly how long it had been since she had read the book, but she had a distinct feeling that she would find the three in the charms corridor…

~ * ~

            Filch was headed for his office when he heard Peeves' shouts of "STUDENTS OUT OF BED."  He turned and ran in the direction of the voice, and quickly found himself standing face to face with the impish poltergeist.

            "Who was it Peeves?" Filch asked between heavy breaths.

            "The short one," Peeves replied, "with short brown hair.  She was on a broomstick, heading for the dungeons."

            "You mean Genevere?" Filch asked?

            "Yeah, that's the little imp's name!" Peeves announced, quite pleased with himself.

            "That girl, she's causing all sorts of trouble, and I can't touch 'er.  I need to talk to Dumbledore about all this!"  Filch stormed off, presumably in search of Dumbledore.  As he was gone a door to Peeve's left creaked open.

            "Is he gone?"

            "Yep."

            "Good," Gen stepped out of the abandoned classroom she was in, "now, tell me which way they went."

            "You'll keep your end of the deal?"

            "Yes, yes, just tell me which way they went."

            "That way," Peeves pointed, "but I'd better hear about exploding toilets SOON!"

            "Alright already!  I promised, what more do you want?" Gen ran to the door Peeves had pointed out as the poltergeist disappeared.  She pulled the door opened, wishing she could remember from the books what was on the other side.  As she opened the door she saw six faces looking at her.  Neville was looking the other way, but the six faces that looked at Gen were Harry, Ron, Hermione, and three monstrous faces of a great, three headed dog.  Gen instantly wondered how she could forget such a key detail of the book.

            "Gen?" Ron asked bewildered.

            "Stop standing there staring at me, you're going to get yourselves killed!" she said in a frightened whisper.

            "What?" Hermione asked.

            "Turn around," Gen said with a strange calmness.  The three turned around to see what Gen and Neville had already found.  They all screamed in unison before the four turned and ran, Neville slamming the door behind them.  They started running down the corridor.  Harry was in the lead, but Gen quickly took his place on her broomstick, and maneuvered the group in a different direction.  She knew a place where they wouldn't be found.  In a mater of minutes the five were standing at the door of Gen's dungeon.  She heaved the door open, and they poured in.  Gen closed the door behind them.

            "What's that?" Ron asked, awestruck.

            "Don't be stupid," Harry said, "it's a car."

            "I know that, but what's it doing here?"

            "Blimey if I know."

            "Okay, this it fascinating and all," Neville said huffily, "but what about the DOG?"

            "Didn't any of you see what it was standing on?" Hermione asked, excitedly.

            "Sorry, but I was a bit preoccupied with its heads, or if you didn't notice, THERE WERE THREE!"

            "It was standing on a trap door," Hermione said, "which means it's guarding something."

            "Like what?" Ron asked.

            "I dunno," was Hermione's only answer.  Gen could have told them easily, but figured it wasn't wise.

            "Okay, where are we?" Ron asked.  Harry and Hermione shrugged.  They all looked to Gen for an answer.  Gen just shrugged back.  There was a weird moment of silence.  "Lets go back to our dormitories," Ron said, "before Snape finds us wandering around the dungeons.  This is probably his," Ron gestured to the car.  They all agreed that he must be right and headed, cautiously up to their dormitories.  When they got to the place where their paths split Gen took her path, and waited a few minutes before doubling back to go back to her dungeon.  She only got halfway there when she was stopped, yet again, by Filch.

            "The headmaster wants to see you," he said with a nasty grin…

So tell me what you think of the ninth chapter.  Don't you love the cliff hangery ending?  Please make with the reviews!  I need, and want them.


	10. Chapter Ten: Teaching Harry

Teaching Harry 

            "Between you and me Genevere," Dumbledore said looking down the bridge of his nose, "I don't want to do this, but I have to do something, or Filch'll quit.  I want you to at least try not to make trouble, from now on, or be sneaky about it.  I don't want to punish you, because I know you're a smart girl.  From the moment you boarded the Hogwarts Express I've been watching you, and I can tell just what kind of person you are.  I know, just as you know that if I was to threaten you, you really wouldn't care.  I might as well just let you do this, because there's no point to me throwing around punishments.  I want to make you a deal.  I'll let you continue to do exactly what you've been doing if you're a little bit more sneaky, and don't get caught.  I'll even tell Peeves to help you."

            "About Peeves," Gen said with a nervous laugh, "I kind of made him a deal… It'll make Filch mad, but it have to do it, or I'll be breaking my promise."

            "As long as you don't get caught," Dumbledore said, "you may go," Dumbledore said.  Gen got up to leave, but Dumbledore stopped her, "oh, and one more thing.  It you don't tell Madame Hooch about the broom, I wont either."  Gen smiled as she left the room, and went down the enchanted staircase.  It was like an escalader.  The stairs moved up on their own, which reminded Gen very much of times she and Morg had gone to the mall just to goof off, and they almost always wound up playing on the escalators.  Gen felt the bitter pangs of guilt.  She had simply left all that; her whole life.  For all she knew she might never get back home.  It seemed very selfish of her to just pick up and go on an adventure.  She had left without even looking back once up until that moment.  Gen had to bit her lip to keep tears of shame from her selfishness from falling…

~ * ~

            Gen opened the door to the girls' bathroom, and took a step out.  She saw two people standing outside the door, and sidestepped the door, leaving the bathroom, and closed the door firmly behind her.  She leaned, with her back against the door staring straight out at Violet, and Pavati.  They looked at her, as if to say, "Get out of the way."

            "You don't want to go in there," Gen said with a nervous chuckle, "one of the toilets, er, flooded."  The two girls looked at her funny, and turned the other way, leaving as fast as possible.  Gen laughed, and began to walk away.  She was about ten feet away when she heard a loud boom, and saw the door to the bathroom explode open with smoke, and an overflowing tidal wave of water.  Gen didn't look back, but she laughed quietly to herself, and watched as Peeves went flying by, and smiled at her…

~ * ~

            It was a cold afternoon.  Classes were over for the day, and little event had happened besides Harry and Ron using an animation charm to bring their quills to life, on their desks in History of Magic.  It was actually quite funny to watch a battle scene unfold between charmed quill soldiers in the aisle between Ron and Harry's desk, and to listen to Professor Binns describe a very similar battle in a goblin war.  Gen decided to go to the library, instead of going to the cold dungeon where she normally worked.  Unsurprisingly, in the library Gen found Hermione reading away in some book on werewolves.

            "Hey," Gen said, sitting next to Hermione at the large table.

            "Hey," Hermione replied, not looking up.

            "So" Gen said uncomfortably, "what's up?"

            "Reading," Hermione said off handedly.

            "Reading what?"

            "A book."

            "So… you wanna come with me tonight to help Harry practice his flying?"

            "Sure."

            "We're gonna barrow some brooms from the school broom shed," Gen looked into Hermione's concentrated eyes.

            "Okay."  At this point Gen stopped believing that Hermione was listening at all.  She decided to test her theory.

            "And do obstacle courses in the school halls…" 

            "Sounds good."

            "Then light ourselves on fire as a political demonstration," Hermione didn't even flinch, "Hermione, are you listening to me?"

            "Huh?" Hermione looked up.

            "At five," Gen said with a smile, "I'm meeting Harry at the Quidditch pitch.  He wants me to teach him to fly like McGonagall thinks he can.  He's supposed to meet wood at the field at seven, but he wants to be somewhat prepared before he has to show off what he can do."

            "Oh," Hermione looked at her book forlornly, "I don't suppose i would be of any real help, and I really..." her voice trailed off.

            "If you don't want to come you don't have to," Gen said with a laughing sigh, "I'll just have to brave the night alone."  It was only three in the afternoon.  Gen had plans to study up on the mechanics of a broomstick.  It was only a few minutes before she found a stack of books about broomsticks.  Some where the history there of, some were the make there of, some were the purpose there of, and some were the manner of use there of.  Gen found most of it to be useless, no matter how interesting.  Little of the books were of any use at all.  Eventually she found one book that was just what she wanted, and decided to leave for the field early.

            "I'm off!" Gen stood, and picked up her saddlebag-backpack, and walked to the front desk to check the book out.

            It was late September.  Not quite autumn yet, but it was getting there.  Gen stood on the steps to the school grounds.  It was cold.  There is no pretty way to put the feeling of the moment into words beyond it being cold.  A breeze blew across Gen's hair, and she looked up into the sky as a chill ran along her back.  "Storm," she whispered to herself.

            "What?"

            Gen turned to see Harry standing above her at the top of the stair.  "Hmm?"

            "What was that you said?"

            "Oh," Gen took a step toward the edge of the stairs, and leant her body against the stone wall, "I was just saying that a storm is coming."

            "How do you know that?"

            "Well," the wind blew again, and Gen's short hair whipped about wildly, "ever since I was a little girl I've had this strange connection to weather.  It's really just a sort of hunch thing.  Like something inside me tells me it looks like a storms coming, and the next thing i know its raining.  It's probably just a silly coincidence," Gen shrugged, "wait a second.  Why are you here?"

            "To practice."

            "But it's only four."

            "Oh," Harry looked confused, "I must be going crazy.  I could have sworn it was five..."

            "Well," Gen smiled, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, "that's alright, we can get a head start."

            As it turned out there was really no purpose in Gen trying to "teach Harry her ways." It was less of a learnable talent, and more of an ingrained talent.  For an hour they just flew about the field, trying to match each other's speeds.  Gen would do strange maneuvers with Harry at her side on his own broomstick.  Harry would attempt to copy her exactly, though it didn't seem to work.  He didn't seem to be showing any improvement at all.  After a while Gen felt like giving up.  She made some remark about how she might as well take Polyjuice potion, and pretend to be Harry at all his games.  It would be easier, and take a lot less work.  Harry didn't know what Polyjuice potion was.  That made Gen laugh.  When Ron got there he couldn't tell which was which from the air.  They came down to meet him, and he could only see the difference at a few feet away.  Gen tried to explain how Harry would make a perfect seeker, because of his build, though he wasn't as aerodynamic as she was.  This explanation wasn't really understood, so Gen subsided to explaining the reasons girls make better seekers.  To her it made perfect sense.

            "Well, girls have curves," She sighed frustrated, "see, instead of going straight up and down like Harry, I make curves.  Think about an airplane."

            "What's an airplane?"

            "A muggle flying machine."

            "Oh, right."

            "They're shaped smoothly, in a curvy way, like girls."

            Ron still didn't understand, though the airplane example seemed to help Harry understand.  Gen decided to drill Harry, as she couldn't think of anything else to do, so she and Ron took a bag of gold painted golf balls from the broom shed, and threw them across the field for Harry to chase about.  The first few he missed.  He was a fair seeker.  He could catch every third ball.  With training he'd be good, though not as good as McGonagall thought he was.

            Thunder rolled, and lightning crackled on the horizon.  Subconsciously Gen counted the seconds between flashes, and thunder.  It was only four miles away, three miles away, two miles away.  It kept getting closer, but something seemed to stop it from getting too close to them.  After a half hour of throwing golf balls Gen decided that they should try doing something different.  She got on her broom, and motioned for Ron to do the same.  They both flew up to meet Harry panting, and sweating from flying so hard.

            "This is what we're going to do," Gen said circling about Harry like a shark, "I'm going to fly around the grounds, and you're going to follow me, and Ron is going to follow you.  That way he can make sure you don't lag behind, and I can set a path for you to practice in.  Ready?" Harry nodded, though he looked like he would have preferred to lie down for a while, and catch his breath, "good!"  Gen broke the circle she was flying in, and started off.  She could hear a ways behind her as Harry and Ron started after her.  She started by flying a circuit of the Quidditch field, twenty feet in the air, waiting for Harry to catch up.  After a minute he was right behind her.  They did five turns around the pitch, and then Gen decided to test Harry's reflexes.  She made a steep dive, pulling up after plummeting ten feet, and pulling out.  She looked back to see Harry had done the same.  She nodded an approval to him, and then, without any warning swerved into the middle of the field, and started making a wide figure eight around the edges of the Quidditch field.  Slowly she made the figure eight tighter and tighter.  After an insanely short time she was making such a tight figure eight that only she and Harry could fit inside it without crashing.  Ron had to sit out and watch.  As quick as she had moved into the figure eights she moved out, and zoomed full speed out of the Quidditch pitch.  Harry had a hard time catching up, so she slowed down just a bit, and motioned for him to come up beside her.  They flew abreast over the great lake until Gen dove down eight feet so that she was right on top of the water, and just barely dry.  Harry attempted to do the same, but ended up splashing through a foot of the water before pulling up to Gen's height.

            "If we had have been on the field still you would be unconscious," Gen shouted over the sound of the billowing wind.

            "I know," Harry said following her as she swerved at a 90-degree angle to the right.  They circled up slowly until they were about ten feet above the ground.  After that Harry and Ron Chased Gen over the treetops of the dark forest.  Gen smiled looking back into Harry's fatigued eyes.

            "Catch me if you can!"  She swooped low into the forest, weaving around the trees, careful not to hit anything.  She heard branches snapping behind her, as Harry was inevitably still a worse flier than Gen. She didn't want to get Harry hurt, and she was worried that if he were in the forest for a moment longer he would run into something.  She pulled up, and looked back to see him pulling up right on her tail.  Gen smiled, "are you challenging me?"  Harry didn't say a word, but he smiled.  "Alright then," Gen pulled away as fast as she could, and Harry followed, with Ron following him.  They flew about the castle for a time, swerving opened windows, and weaving around towers.  Suddenly a heavy rain poured down.  It was as if the heavens had opened up, and were dropping buckets of water on them.  It came down in sheets, soaking Gen to the bone.  After a time Gen made her way back to the Quidditch pitch, wet, tired, and seeing Harry now as a real danger.  He had gotten better, though he wasn't quite good enough.  Gen dove down with Harry right on her tail.  Just before she hit the ground she pulled up to four feet, and he followed her.  At that moment she decided that she was done playing the game, and let her broom drop to the ground, rolling off it, and landing on her back on the flooded grass.  She looked up as Harry flew directly over her body, unable to stop as gracefully as she had.  Suddenly his broom came to a halt, and started to fall, but just as it was Ron ran into him, and the two went splashing to the ground five yards away from Gen. Gen sat up, laughing, and watched as the two boys struggled to get up to their feet, slipping about in the mud.  It was a pointless, and silly process, as, as soon as one got to his feet the other pulled him back down to help himself.  Gen couldn't have been more amused at the moment, and felt happy, despite the bitter cold.

            "Potter," A voice shouted from somewhere behind Gen, "Is that you?" Gen recognized the voice, though she had never heard it before in real life, and turned her head.  It was Oliver Wood, though she couldn't see his face, he was wearing a hooded cloak, to protect him from the rain.  Ron subsided, and Harry struggled to his feet.

            "Yes," as the words left his lips he slipped in the negative traction, and went down on one knee.

            "Who are you with?  And what in the blazes are you doing?"

            "It's just Ron and Gen," Harry said attempting again to get to his feet, but quickly fell back onto his bottom, sitting in the cold mud, "they were helping me practice flying."

            "Well get inside," Wood said, walking to where Harry was, and giving him a dry hand, "I don't want my newest player catching his death before he even plays."

            "Yes sir," Harry said once he was back on his feet.  Harry helped Ron to his feet, and Gen got to her feet easily on her own, as she hadn't torn up the ground beneath her, and there was no mud.  Wood decided it was necessary to escort them into the school, and then left them to make their way to the common room, saying something about the library.  They were walking down the halls, headed for their common rooms, which consequently were very close to each other, in light conversation, when they met an unexpected person.

            "At least I'm not muddy," Gen said with a laugh, skipping a step in her walking pattern.

            "Oh, no?" Ron looked at her devilishly, and started to move in on her.

            "Oh no you don't!" Gen said dodging a swipe he made for her waist.

            "Come on Harry!" Ron said menacingly, "dog pile on Gen!"  The two boys proceeded to chase Gen down the hall toward her common room entrance, she was just outside of it when they caught up with her, and the three of them went crashing to the floor.

            "GEROFFMEH!" Gen shouted from underneath the two boys.  She was now sufficiently covered in mud, and struggling to get out into the opened air.  When she finally made her way so that the upper half of her body was out from under the two she was sorry she had, as standing above them was Argus Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker.  He had a nasty look on his face, and was giving Gen the worst stare-down of her life

            "What did I say about making trouble Miss Bangle?"

            "Not to?"

            "Exactly, now get out of my sight, the lot of you, or I'll be forced to alert Dumbledor of your doings."  They were up, and gone before he even finished saying it.  The last thing Gen needed was another talk with Dumbledor in the same day as the last.  It hadn't been her fault this time, but she was willing to bet that Filch suspected her of blowing up the toilet, and she really didn't want to be expelled, as she would have nowhere to go if she was.  Gen headed for the girls' showers, as the day wasn't quite out, and she suspected that within a few hours she would be back out of the Ravenclaw Dormitories...

Yay for chapter TEN.  The big One-O!  Sorry it took me so long to post this.  The fact is I had an amazingly busy few weeks.  With any luck my schedule will clear up soon.  I just realized how idiotic it was to write R and R here, as at this point you've already read it, so I'm gonna just say Review ^_^


	11. Chapter Eleven: Erm, yes well, it really...

[INSERT CHAPTER ELEVEN HERE]

What did you think of chapter eleven?  ^_~ Review and tell me!  Have a great week! 


	12. Chapter Twelve: Halloween

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: What you are about to read is chapter twelve, not chapter eleven.  The writing of Chapter eleven has been cancelled, as it decided that it hates me.  There is no such thing as chapter eleven, and therefore you missed nothing.  Thank you for your time.

Halloween 

            Days past, weeks past, even months past, and soon Gen felt more at home than she had ever felt.  It was actually a weird experience for her.  Harry had gotten immensely better at being a seeker but had yet to play in a real game.  Gen couldn't go to the games.  It made her feel sad to know that she could, and should be the one playing.  It was Halloween when things started to fall apart.  Gen had the strange feeling that something important happened on Halloween in the books, but she couldn't remember what.  It had been so long ago when she read them.  She dismissed the thought, sure that if it was important she would think of it.  In Charms class they were learning a levitation spell.  As usual Gen was paired with Neville, and Hermione with Ron.  Like usual neither Gen, Neville, nor Ron managed to make the spell work.  Hermione showed Ron up, casting the spell with a flick of the wrist.  Ron was naturally annoyed.

            "It's Leviooooooosa," Ron said as they walked down the halls, "not Leviosaaaaaa!  Honestly, she's a nightmare!  It's no wonder she has no fiends."

            Gen didn't laugh.  She didn't like it when people made fun of other people, and Ron would certainly hear about it later.  That was just about then when Hermione bustled through them.

            "I think she heard you," Harry said with a frown.  

            "Now you've done it Ron!" Gen said, before marching off after Hermione, to maybe right some wrongs.  It was one thing insulting people behind their back; it was another when they heard you do it.  Gen remembered bitterly the people at her school who did that to her…

            The day went by, and neither Gen nor Hermione went to class.  Hermione had locked herself in a stall of the girl's bathroom, and was crying.  Gen tried as much as she could to get Hermione to come out, but she had never really had a way with words.  "You can't stay in here your whole life," Gen said nigh unto giving up, "you don't really care what he thinks do you?"

            "Evidently I do!" Hermione said through tears.

            "What happened to the girl who didn't care what other people thought," Gen said hopelessly.

            "She never existed," Hermione choked, "whatever there was of her was shot down when her only friends treated her like a pigeon.  All that's there ever was, was a girl who wanted to make people like her, a girl who wanted to make Ron like her…"

            "Oh, Hermione!" Gen gasped, suddenly feeling extremely guilty, and wanting to make it up any way she could.

            "Just leave!" Hermione shouted, blowing her nose.  Gen gave up, and walked to the great door.  It was raining outside, and Gen could hear faint rumbles that she dismissed as thunder but as soon as she opened the door she knew she had been wrong.  She also remembered what happened on Halloween that was so important.  Standing before Gen was the most enormous, and hideous thing she had ever seen, and she had been to New York.  Standing outside the threshold was an enormous mountain troll.  Gen slammed the door, running to the stall was where Hermione hid.

            "Hermione," Gen said desperately, "let me in!"

            "Go away!" Hermione yelled.

            "You leave me no choice!" Gen pulled out her wand, and yelled, "ALOHAMORA!"  The lock came unlatched, and Gen pulled the door opened, "GET DOWN!" Gen yelled, but Hermione didn't understand.  The Troll was already in the room, and about to make a swipe for the stall with his club, so Gen thinking quickly threw Hermione onto the floor.  Hermione escaped the blow, but Gen got the full brunt of it.  She landed on the floor, completely unconscious, blood dripping down from where the club had hit her on the back of the head.  Hermione stared from where she lay, covered in busted up chunks of wood at Gen's unconscious body.  There was nothing she could have done.  Gen had sacrificed herself for Hermione's sake, and Hermione couldn't hide the guilt in her voice.  The troll picked up Gen's body by her leg, but Gen didn't even move, she couldn't even move.  Robes fell off from her shoulders, and her skirt was flipped up, or rather down.  Her whole body was completely limp.  The troll inspected her for a moment, but soon saw movement in the rubble.  It was at about that time that Harry and Ron came through the door.  It only took them as long as it did, because Ron didn't like the idea of going into a girl's bathroom.  Throwing Gen's unconscious body to the ground the Troll moved over to where Hermione was struggling through the rubble.  Ron ran immediately to Gen's limp figure, which was crumpled in a heap against the wall.  Harry's first notion was to throw something at the Troll that was now knocking sinks off the wall, attempting to get Hermione, who was shrinking against the opposite wall, as if she was about to faint.  He picked up the tap to a nearby sink that was shattered on the floor, and hurled it at the troll's head.  The troll turned, to see Harry standing there, and decided that that would be his new target.  He started toward the small boy, holding his club above his head, but stopped, as a metal pipe hit his shoulder.  He hadn't even felt the metal pipe, but he did hear a voice that accompanied it.

            "Oy, Pea-brain!" Ron shouted from where he stood.  The troll looked to Ron, giving Harry just enough time to run around it's back, to where Hermione lay.

            "Come on Hermione!" he said, trying to help her to her feet, but she was scared out of her wits, and couldn't manage to move.  The troll was heading for where Ron stood protectively over Gen's body, and Harry couldn't seem to deter it from its objective.  So, running out of ideas quick Harry decided to take a running jump, and wrap his arms around the troll's neck.  The troll may have been stupid, but he noticed as Harry's wand found it's way up his right nostril.  The troll swung about, and grabbed Harry by the leg, as he had once done to Gen.  He made a swipe for Harry's head, but missed, as Harry pulled his torso up, and out of the way of danger.  He let himself fall back down, as the Troll wondered at why it hadn't worked.

            "Do Something!" Harry yelled.

            "What should I do?" Ron yelled back as Harry pulled up a second time, again missing the troll's walloping swing.

            "Anything!" He yelled dropping back down.

            Ron didn't have the slightest idea what he was doing, but he pulled out his wand, and suddenly he saw the club flying out of the troll's hand.  He had cast the levitation charm.  He let the charm go as the troll looked about stupidly, trying to find out where his club had gone.  The club dropped, and hit the troll on the head.  The troll dropped Harry on his head, before dropping to the ground, completely unconscious.  Gen didn't see any of this, but she knew it happened, if only from prior knowledge.  All things considered, it had been a pretty good Halloween for her.  Sure she had spent the day in a public bathroom, gotten herself beaten senseless by a mountain troll, and eaten no candy, but it beat the heck out of spending all night babysitting a troop of ten-year-old boys, who had had one to many pixie sticks, and sodas.

Heh, I almost posted this without adding a blurb.  Did the lack of a chapter eleven scare you?  Get used to it, it's going to be a running gag.  I hope you enjoyed Gen's Halloween, though it wasn't much different from the one in the book… It's actually just the scene from the book, spliced together with the scene from the movie, with a character added in.  If you'd like to note Gen, for the first time, used magic!  *Gasp*

Any way, I loved watching Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.  If you haven't seen it, go watch it now!  It was superb.  I just spent the day on a charter bus, so I'm very tired.  Have fun reviewing!  Much love!


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Unlucky Thirteen

Unlucky Thirteen 

            November was a cold month.  Gen hadn't been in so cold a place since she was eight, and went skiing in the Rockies.  Even as Gen lay for three solid weeks in the hospital wing, she could feel the bitter cold through the pain killer potions she was taking.  In the first week of her healing period she couldn't even think straight, and all she remembered was the terrible chill, and seeing faces go by in a blur.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione came by a lot.  It wasn't until their fifth visit that Gen put two and two together.

            "Hey!" she said, as if she had just put together a very complex puzzle and was pleased with herself indeed, "you two are together, and you aren't fighting!"  Harry laughed, Hermione coughed, and Ron looked at his feet, mumbling something awkwardly that Gen couldn't make out.  Days past, and the quidditch season would soon start.  Harry became very jumpy all the time.  He was so nervous that he was practicing every free minute that he had.  One day the three came in, or rather Ron and Hermione came in dragging Harry along by the hand.  He seemed to be sleep walking, but Hermione assured Gen that he was just fatigued from quidditch practice.  They propped him up in a chair, and his head lulled down to his chest.  Every so often he would have a spasm where he would become suddenly alert in his chair, and shout random quidditch trivia.  Evidentially Hermione had lent him her "Quidditch Throughout the Ages" book, and whenever he wasn't on the field he was reading it.  It seemed to comfort him, but his comfort disappeared one frosty day.  As it seemed Snape had taken Harry's book for no reason at all.  This wasn;t so hard to believe, but what was hard to believe was the other half of Harry's story.

            "When I went to get the book," Harry whispered to the three as they sat in the empty Hospital Wing the day before the first game, "I saw Snape and Filch alone in the teacher's lounge."

            "Slashy," Gen said hazily with an inward laugh.  They looked at her questioningly for a moment, but then looked away.

            "They were talking about the three headed dog."

            "Fluffy?"

            "Fluffy?!?" Ron shouted, fed up with Gen's strange, and stupid comments, "Why in the name of Merlin would that _thing_ be called Fluffy?"

            "Leave her alone," Hermione said warningly, "She's delusional."

            Gen shut up, and Harry continued with his story.  "Anyway, I peeked in and Snape's leg was all bloody.  It looked like he had been bit by something big.  Remember how when Snape took the book he was limping?  And remember how we saw him near the girl's bathroom on Halloween, when he should have been in the dungeons?  I'd bet my broomstick that he's the one who let that troll in on Halloween, and that he did it to try and get past that dog."

            "No way, Snape wouldn't do that!  He's a Hogwarts teacher," Hermione said, appalled at their assumptions.

            "She's right you know," Gen whispered, but they were ignoring her, "I wouldn't do something like that.  But the fact that he's a Hogwarts teacher means nothing… we all know the things that go on."  Ron looked at her like she was speaking in another language.

            "You're being backed up by a mentally incapacitated person," Ron said to Hermione, "it's not like that's going to help you at all."

            "I know Snape wouldn't do that."

            "Well," Ron said angrily, "I know that he would."

            "Well," Hermione snapped, "if he does want to get past that dog what's his reason?  I mean, what's down there?"

            "I don't know," Harry frowned, "but what ever it is it must have been pretty important for someone to try to steal it from Gringotts."  

            _So they made some discoveries while I was out of it_, Gen thought, _good.  Maybe the world isn't totally, hopelessly lost…_

            That night was Harry's first quidditch match.  Gen didn't see it, though it seemed to have been quite the show.  According to Ron Snape was a "good-for-nothing son of a banshee" who "aught to be cursed with the grim a million times, and back."  Neither Harry nor Hermione seemed to understand the last part of his comment, but they didn't question it.  Ron seemed shocked by something Hagrid had told them.  Something to the effect of the three headed dog's name really being Fluffy.  Still despite the fact that "Snape" was hexing Harry's broom Gryffindor won, and after a very short visit to Gen the three left to help the Gryffindors celebrate.

            Gen would be out of bed soon, within the week.  This made Hermione fell better, but not as much as it did so for Ron.  He felt guilty for the whole thing.  If he hadn't insulted Hermione no one would have gotten hurt in the first place, and Gen would still be in class.  Gen assured him constantly that it was okay, but the guilt was eating him alive.  One night when Hermione and Harry were gone, and Gen was near sleep she could hear Ron whisper a soliloquy to Gen, begging her forgiveness.  He thought she was asleep, but he was wrong.  She heard every word that traversed his youthful lips.  He could not see her for the dark of the night, and her eyes sprang open the minute that he spoke.  Those eyes could see by the flickering light of a candle the glossy wet in Ron's, and seeing the shine found a film of bittersweet on themselves.  Ron fell asleep that night in the Hospital wing, his head resting on the side of Gen's bed.  After bearing his soul before her, his heart rent so strangely for an eleven-year-old boy, he passed out, fatigued with sorrow, and Gen whispered comforting words to his shuttering frame, and before long he rested peacefully, hunched over in a wooden hospital chair, Gen's fingers running through his soft red hair.  Morning broke on the two, Ron was fast asleep, but Gen wasn't.  Being knocked out by the troll was the closest she had gotten to sleep in months, and she didn't expect to come that again close for quite a while more…

*Fanfare* Chapter Thirteen!  Yay.  I hope you liked it.  Tell me what you thought, please!!!  I'm sorry about how short it is, but it makes up for how long chapter nineteen will be.  I hope to finish this whole thing up by the end of December, or sooner.  Well, finish this part of the story.  I want to tell you a little secret.  After I finish with "Genevere Bangle's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" I won't quite be finished with the story as a whole.  Heh… but then, you'll just have to wait and see.  


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Thanksgiving

****

Thanksgiving 

            Gen was out of the Hospital wing, in what seemed like no time, though time seemed to go by very fast for her at any rate.  Without sleep she felt like a day was a minute, and an hour was a split-second.  It was strange to be back in class though.  She had missed a lot, though Hermione had tutored her while she was out of class.  Nothing seemed to be going right.  In transfiguration they were having a test on transfiguring inanimate objects to come to life, and Gen knew nothing about it.  Charms was the same as usual, which didn't make it easy, though it didn't make it hard.  Gen and Neville still couldn't make any magic happen, though Hemione insisted that Gen had done magic before.  Gen couldn't seem to remember ever doing magic, but Hermione insisted that she had cast the Alohamora charm on Halloween.  History of Magic was boring, as usual, its torpor only interrupted by Harry transfiguring his History book to do a tap dance across his desk.

            "Why can't we ever manage to do that when we have to?" Harry asked Ron.  They had both failed their test on animating, inanimate objects, yet they seemed to be doing just fine.  Defense Against the Dark Arts served no purpose, as no one took Quirrell seriously, especially Gen. Even if Draco wasn't doing it with her, she was making fun of him in class.  She knew she had to find some way of making Harry and Ron suspect him, but she couldn't think of any way, plus it might be better to just let them find things out on their own.

            Gen sat in potions, with her cauldron partner, Justin Finch-Fletchley.  He seemed to have a cold, and every time he went to measure out their exact amount of chopped flobberworms he would cough, and loose his count.

            "Stop," Gen said, "just stop!" She was irritated with the way things were going, "you're going to spill!"  She took the measuring cup from his hand, and measured it out herself, as Justin sat there feeling rather useless, tossed the chopped flobberworms into the cauldron, and ran her finger down the crease of the book, trying to find the next step.  As she was measuring out a tablespoon of ground unicorn's horn she heard a great sneeze, and then a sizzling hiss.  The muscles in her back tensed up.  She was afraid to turn, and see what Justin had done.

            "Oops…" Justin said with a frown as Gen turned around looking positively murderous.  He had sneezed on the cauldron, putting the flame out.

            "Light it again," she said icily.  He turned the knob on the Bunsen burner, but it wouldn't light, "Justin," she said coolly, "if you don't get that lit in five seconds not only will our potion fail, but you will find yourself with your tongue wrapped around your neck five times, and then nailed to the desk."  Wide-eyed he pulled out his wand, and tried to light a bluebell fire, but it was no good.  Gen started to count, "five, four, three," Justin started to panic, "two, one, PROFESSOR!!!"  Gen shouted, throwing her hand into the air.

            "Yes Miss Bangle?" Snape asked gently.  He was rather fond of Gen as a student.  She was the top in the class, though he wouldn't admit that she was the top of all the first years, because Malfoy was his official teacher's pet.

            "Justin sneezed on the Bunsen burner, and it wont light now," she said in a tell tale voice, as Justin bit his lip.

            "Finch-Fletchley!" Snape said, and Justin looked up in fear, "if you're going to be going around ruining other people's hard work why did you even come to class?  Go to the hospital wing, and get that cold of yours cleared up, and don't come back till it's gone!"  Snape pulled a box out of his pocket, and tossed it to Gen, who caught it nimbly.  She was, after all, a natural born seeker.  She studied the box carefully.  It was emerald green, with sliver trim, and had the slytherin crest on its hinged, and locked lid.  She opened it, and saw that it was full of matches, noting that they each had a green tip, and silver lettering on the wood that said "Severus Snape."  On the inside of the lid there was an inscription.

_            The flames can only be put out_

_ by sprinkling powdered unicorn's horn_

_ sparingly on them._

            She took one match, and lit it, putting it under the cauldron.  It made a small silvery fire beneath her cauldron, and she continued to make her potion, jamming the matchbox into her pocket, and forgetting about it.  The potion was a giggle potion, and as the class finished up making them the air was thick with vapors from it, and laughter from the first years.  It even eased Gen's mood.  Justin didn't come back at all that day, but Gen insisted that Snape give him full credit, as she was in good humor.  Snape obliged, but only because Gen batted her eyelashes at him.  She was beginning to wonder if his only feelings toward her were that of a trusting teacher.  No matter.  Gen was in a good mood, and she couldn't care less what Snape thought.  

            She walked cheerily to lunch, her books under her arm, giggling to herself, but when she got there neither Ron, Harry, nor Hermione were there.  She stood wonderingly for a moment, staring at the place where they should have been, and then remembered something.  They had made plans to meet in the Library at lunch.  She did an about face, only to run into Malfoy.

            "So," he said "can't find your boy friend eh?"

            "Um, no…" Gen said confused, but laughing, "I was just heading for the…" her voice cut out as she burst into laughter.

            "What's so funny?"

            "Nothing," Gen said trying to smother her snickers, "nothing, I…" She couldn't control it, "I have to go."  She sidestepped him, and ran out of the hall laughing, hoping that he wouldn't be too mad at her.  As she wound her way down a long corridor to the library she composed herself, then entered the library with a mere smile on her face.  Ron didn't notice her strange happiness, as he was absorbed in a book.  It was leather-bound, about five inches thick, and looked positively boring.

            "What are you reading?" Gen asked with a snort.

            "Hmm?" Ron looked up from his book.

            "What are you reading?"

            "A book."

            "I'm not an idiot, what book?"

            "'_Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_.'"

            "Why are you reading that?" Gen laughed.  Ron's only answer was a shrug as he looked back to the book.  Hermione walked over, flanked by Harry, and dropped three similar sized books down on the table.

            "Okay," She said, "Harry, you're going to read '_Notable Magical Names of our Time_,' Gen, you're going to read '_Important Modern Magical Discoveries_,' and I'll read 'A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry.'"

            "Pardon my asking," Gen said looking at the giant, dust covered book Hermione had set in front of her with distaste, "but why are we reading these?"

            "We're looking for Nicolas Flamel," Hermione said as if it was the obvious answer.

            "I thought we were here to study," Gen said confused, and started to snicker as the afterthoughts of the potion came back in a wave.

            "Well, this is more important than studying at the moment," Hermione said, accompanied by both Ron and Harry looking up at her, eyes wide, mouths gapping.  They were both wondering if she had really said what they thought she had said, but Hermione was ignoring them, as well as Gen's additional laughter.  Quickly Ron went back to his book, as Gen and Harry hurried to find a good place to start in their books.  The four sat reading for all of lunch, but found nothing.  Gen had expected this, but didn't know if it was appropriate to say anything.

            Thanksgiving was coming.  Gen was excited about having a Thanksgiving feast at Hogwarts.  That is, until she found out that Britain doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving.  She found out about the lack of turkey day from Harry.  She had been going on, and on about how she couldn't wait for the holidays to start, especially all the turkey.  It was a week from Thanksgiving itself when she was saying all this, and she couldn't suppress her excitement.

            "In less than seven days we'll be eating more turkey than you can fit in a size four cauldron!" she said with glee twirling about a statue of Godric Gryffindor, feeling particularly giddy as the four walked to transfigurations.

            "I think your calculations are a bit off Gen," Harry said with a slight smile.

            "Why's that?" she asked, stopping in mid skip.

            "Christmas isn't for another month," Hermione laughed.

            "Not Christmas you sillies," Gen said, continuing with her skipping, "Turkey day!"

            "What's Turkey day?" Ron asked, sounding excited at the prospect of a holiday he'd never heard of.

            "Thanksgiving…" Gen frowned as the three began to look confused.

            "Isn't that an American holiday?" Hermione asked.

            "Er…" Gen paused to think, trying to remember her history.

            "We don't celebrate Thanksgiving," Harry said giving Gen a weird look.

            "Well," Ron smiled hopefully, "maybe we do at Hogwarts!"

            "Oy, Fred!" Ron shouted that night as the four entered the grand hall for dinner, "do we celebrate Thanksgiving here?"

            "Euh…" Fred looked at Ron funnily, "not that I'm aware of."

            "What's Thanksgiving?" George whispered to Fred, and Fred just shrugged.  Ron seemed very disappointed, though not as disappointed as Gen, who had been going on about how wonderful Thanksgiving was.  It was one of her favorite holidays.  Not so much because of the food as it was for the having her family actually acknowledge the fact that they were "thankful" for her.    When Thanksgiving day came around the corner she wished each of the three a happy Turkey day, but it wasn't a happy Turkey day.  They were sitting in the library pouring over stacks of random books they had plucked from the bookcases when Gen stood up.

            "That's it!" she said, finally snapping, "if I don't get some Turkey right now I'm going crazy."  She stood, and picked up her bag, and slinging it over her shoulder, "come on!  If Hogwarts won't give me Thanksgiving; I'm getting it myself.  Come on Ron lets go."  Ron was all to eager to go, but the others seemed a little held back.  "Fine then," Gen said with a coy smile, "when we get back from stuffing our faces we'll come and tell you in full detail how wonderful it was."  That got Harry, and Hermione followed, only because she didn't want to be left out.

            "Do you know where you're going?" Hermione asked attempting to keep up with the three who were walking abreast, at top speeds through the corridors.

            "Yes," Gen said with a faint smile, "though I don't know the way."  This made Hermione furious, and she stopped in her tracks, threatening that she wouldn't go with, which didn't actually work, so she started after them again.  They wandered for a while; going down numerous flights of stairs, before finding what Gen was looking for.  They found themselves in a broad corridor brightly lit with torches and decorated with cheerful paintings, all of them paintings of food.  Gen walked to where there was one gigantic painting of a bowl of fruit, and reached up to it, trying to think.  She stood, her hand hovering just above the banana, as she tried to remember which fruit it was that she had to tickle.  After much deliberation, while Ron, Harry, and Hermione watched her rapt with confusion, and aw Gen reached forward, and tickled a great pear.  It squirmed about, giggling, and then turned into a door handle, which Gen turned, and pulled opened.

            "Wow," Ron whispered.  He was the only one of the four who could speak, as they looked in on a room the exact size of the great hall, but much different.  It was filled with pots and pans, and house elves rushing about.

            "Come on," Gen said as she walked into the room, closely followed by Harry and Ron, who were followed by Hermione who tottered after them gazing in amazement at the kitchens.  "Excuse me," Gen said sweetly to the closest house elf, "Hermione here," Gen said pointing to Hermione, who snapped out of her gaze, realizing that she was getting put into Gen's lie, "she's American," Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Gen cut her off, "and she's mute," Hermione closed her mouth, "and she misses having Thanksgiving, and that's today, and we were wondering if you could possibly supply us with some turkey and mashed potatoes, and gravy, and cranberry sauce," she started to get carried away, "and olives, and stuffing, and cider, and rolls, and pie, and ice-cream, and candied yams, and roast beef and…" at this point Ron was drooling, and several other house elves had stopped what they were doing.

            "Say no more," a squat little elf said with a smile before hurrying off.  Several elves helped each other set up four chairs, and a table, and seated the four friends.  In less than two minutes the table was covered with just about everything Gen had named, and more.  Strangely there were no individual plates, or eating utensils, but this didn't deter Ron.  He started in with his hands, stuffing a whole buttered roll into his mouth at the same time he was picking up a bowl full of olives.  Harry had the common sense to ask for some plates, or at least a fork, and the elves complied.  The four set to shoveling loads of mashed potatoes, and turkey onto their plates as the House elves watched them with interest.  About an hour and a half passed before Gen couldn't possibly eat another bite.  She had eaten, if possible, more than Ron, as Ron had past out about halfway through his second pie.  The table was still covered in food, as the elves continued to bring more and more to them.  Harry was just finishing his pumpkin pie when Ron snorted, and scared himself out of his sleep.  He shot up out of his chair, and then sat back down, dizzy.  His face was covered in whipped cream from the pie he had been eating.  Gen threw him a napkin as she ate her fifth, and final helping of candied yams.

            "We should go to bed," Hermione said, watching Ron wipe his face clean with Gen's napkin, "It's nearly nine o'clock."  The three agreed, and the left, only after the elves had made certain that they had filled their pockets with éclairs, and other delicious smelling pastries.

            "And all this time I thought it was some great feat taking food from the kitchens, like it made Fred and George legends.  It's like they want you to take their food…"

Chapter Fourteen is finally done!!!  Happy Late Thanksgiving!  The marching season is almost over, and then my schedule will clear up a bit, but after that I have choir gigs, so I'm sorry if this doesn't start going really fast until January.  I hope to finish Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone in the beginning of December.   Please, please review!!!  I need the feedback.  


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Land of Wonders

DISCLAIMER: Yes, this chapter gets a special disclaimer. If you don't want me to ruin the chapter don't read this disclaimer. Okay, firstly I would just like to say that I don't claim ownership over wonderland, or anyone found there, so don't sue me. I don't own the wonderful Cheshire Cat either, even though it isn't Lewis Carroll's Cheshire Cat. It actually belongs to a friend, but you'll hear all about her in the bottom blurb, so don't worry.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
uLand of Wondersu/  
  
  
  
It was dark in Dumbledore's office. The light coming from the dimmed lanterns of the room glimmered off the gold trim of gadgets, and doo-dads on the shelves, and shelves that lined the room's walls. Fawks cooed softly from his golden perch looking over his master's shoulder. Dumbledore gazed interestedly into the glass gazing ball on his desk, watching the tiny figure of Gen within the glass ball sitting at a work table in her dungeon, gluing broom bristles to a silver disk.  
  
He wasn't sure what she was doing, but he knew it had something to do with her machine. She had over more than a month been disassembling the mechanics of her machine, and taking selected pieces to make... something. She had finished with that not long before, and fitted this something into a silver canister.  
  
Now she was, as Dumbledore had realized concealing the canister within the bristles of her broomstick. She appeared to be nearly finished, but Dumbledore wasn't rushing her. He had grown fascinated with her strange magic. The girl didn't realize it, but her ability to make such a complex machine came to her from her complex magic, that not even she understood. She had it in her to cast any spell thinkable, but they were all too simple. She could only cast the spells she learned at Hogwarts when she wasn't thinking about it; when she was nervous, or tired.  
  
With gloom Dumbledore gave into the realization that she would probably never develop her abilities, but then, as soon as her machine was finished she would no longer be safe at Hogwarts...  
  
  
  
Gen jammed a handful of bristles into the head of her broom. She was finished with her machine, and wanted to take it for a test drive, but she wasn't quite ready. She was afraid that if she left she might never see Hogwarts again. Christmas was coming. In fact it was Christmas eve. Gen had snuck off the grounds to buy presents for the tree house gang a few days prior, and had wrapped them with care, putting Hermione's in the mail, as she had gone home for the Holiday. She figured she may as well wait to see Christmas at hog warts before leaving on a second test drive, and being tossed into a new world of mystery, so she put the broom up against the wall, and got out her notebook. She made a final description of the Model Two Bridge, before recording her plans. It was late at night but Gen wasn't tired. She put her notebook away, and opened the door walking out into the corridor.  
  
It was cold; so cold that it made Gen wish she had fur. Outside it was snowing, or so she assumed. It had been snowing for the last few days. The boys spent a lot of time out in the snow, fighting with balls of ice. Hermione had left for the holiday the prior week, and even still the search for Nicholas Flamel continued. Whenever the boys were tired of getting pelted with snow they were in the Library. Gen had a good feeling that f she went into the Library at the crack of dawn Ron and Harry would be there. It wasn't like them to be so persistent, but they were.  
  
Gen pulled her work robes close around her. She hadn't even changed into her pajamas yet, or rather her night clothes as she was now accustomed to calling them. She thought about stopping off at the front steps to look out at the snow, but changed her mind, to head off to her dormatory. She turned a corner, and saw for a fleeting moment, out of the corner of her eye, a cloak whip around the next corner past a suit of armor, and out of sight. She heard a thunk and hurried whispered before there was silence. She rose an eyebrow a she moved towards the sound, instinctively pulling out her wand.  
  
She stepped lightly through the torch light, making as little sound as possible. Unfortunately the dancing flames cast her shadows down on the ground, and around the corner two stooping figures trying to hide in the shadows saw her advancing silhouette. Consciously Gen made plans to kick over a near by suit of armor. According to her calculations if she did it just right the suit's ax would ricochet, and hit whoever, or whatever it was, at least distracting them, or it for a moment to let her catch a glimpse of them, or it.  
  
It was a good, well formulated plan, and would have worked if her subconscious hadn't been making plans of it's own, and what really happened was a combination of many things all happening in a very short space of time. First she kicked out the supports holding up the suit of armor, and cast a disarming spell at the same time.  
  
The suit toppled, the ax flew, and intercepted the disarming spell before it got a chance to reflect on the window pane it was headed for. The ax blade flew up wedging itself in the ceiling, and the handle flew to the side knocking over another suit of armor, that, evidently, was charmed, and shot out about twenty blades at Gen's head and torso, but luckily the moment after she started her two plans in motion, seeing her mistake she ducked down behind the statue of a rather frumpy witch, putting her hands over her head, and the blades all lodged themselves into the statue instead.  
  
When the clatter stopped Gen stood up. She no longer trusted her wand, and thus threw it on the ground before plucking a longish blade from the witch's left eye, and tossing her volumous robes onto the ground to get them out of the way moved to the corner, holding her breath. She tried to get up the courage, and nearly did, but didn't get a chance to. Before she knew what hit her she was on her back, panting on the floor, the wind totally knocked out of her.  
  
"I've got 'im, I've got 'im... her?" Harry looked down wonderingly at Gen's horrified face. She could hardly breath, as his knees were in her gut.  
  
"What?" a voice called as a very pale Ron came around the corner, "Gen? What are you doing here?"  
  
She tried to answer, but no words came through her throat, as she had no air to use in a word.  
  
"Oh, right, sorry." Harry got up off her beaten body, and got to his feet.  
  
"Trying to go to bed!" Gen said attempting to sit up, but getting very dizzy. Harry picked up the knife Gen had dropped in the fall, and admired the blade.  
  
"Do you know how close you came to stabbing me right in the stomach?" he asked laughing almost crazily  
  
"You're the one who jumped on me," she said struggling again to sit up, holding her aching head. There was a loud ringing in her ears, and she was sure her head had hit the floor.  
  
"Yeah," Harry frowned, "sorry about that."  
  
"Apology accepted," Gen said briskly as Ron pulled her to her feet, "but the next time you sneak around at midnight give me some kind of warning."  
  
"How about you giving us warning?" Harry asked setting the knife down carefully.  
  
"Okay," Gen said irritably, "here's warning. I'm going to be out tonight, and tomorrow night, and the night after that. Good enough for you?"  
  
"What are you doing out so much?" Harry asked confusedly, "and how do you manage to not get caught?"  
  
"I'm very sneaky," she assured him.  
  
"No you aren't, we heard you coming a mile away," Ron laughed.  
  
"When I want to be, I'm sneaky, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Ron smiled, "but what are you doing out all the time?"  
  
"Studying," she said shortly.  
  
"Studying what?" Ron asked, and Gen opened her mouth to answer, but she didn't have time to chronicle some false to him, because at that very moment the corridor was filled with a bellowing.  
  
"PEEVES! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW?!?"  
  
It was Filch. He had heard the clatter, and from the sound of it he wasn't happy. Realizing what a terrible mess they'd made the three gathered all evidence they had been there, and ran away down the hall. Just as they turned the corner out of sight Filch happened upon the site. The three pedaled down the corridor, winding around corners, up and down stair cases and through rooms, wanting to put as much space as possible between them and the crime scene, certain that Filch was on their tails, though he was too busy cursing Peeves.  
  
They came, rather relieved, upon the painting of the Fat Lady, and called out the password, flinging themselves into the common room. They lay strewn about the room, panting for a while before their panting gave way to laughter. Ron lay collapsed, half in a big red chair, and half on the floor. Gen was on her knees against the wall near Ron's chair, and Harry was laying on his back between the two. Their spirits had been raised thanks to their short escapade, and the night gave way to a game of Exploding Snap before the fireplace. It would have been a game of Chess had there only been two of them, but as it was they were playing Exploding Snap.  
  
Gen and Harry lost miserably, and the three fell asleep before the smoldering embers of the fire place, or rather, the two did. Gen sat, tw two boys yawning and nodding to her either sides on the couch. As she gazed into the dying flames a tear came to her eye. Sun would rise soon, and it would be Christmas. But Gen's will to go on, like the flame in the fireplace, was burning out. She didn't think she could live through saying goodbye to these boys who had become something like brother's to her.  
  
Suddenly it hit her. She loved them: Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville... She loved Hogwarts. The thought that she might never see any of it made her miserable. She couldn't bring herself to leave, but then, she couldn't bring herself to stay either. Before long the necessity to leave out weighed the desire to stay, and she got up to leave. She knew that if she stayed a minute longer she would change her mind, and with one last look at her two friends she ran through the portrait hole.  
  
  
  
A soft snow fell, coating the grounds, turning the trees of the forbidden forest white. A harsh wind blew through the night as Gen walked down the front steps. She didn't imagine she would ever see the grounds she had come to love again, but she tried not to think about it as she mounted her broom. She double checked her bag to make certain she had her notebook, and everything she deemed necessary. She would miss the Model One Bridge, but it didn't fit in her bag, although later she would remember her spell-sand, and curse herself for not bringing it.  
  
As she was about to finish her check she heard a voice calling from the doors, and then footsteps down the front stairs. Gen didn't have to look back, she knew the voice was Snape's. She felt rather rebellious at the time, and decided that she knew better than anything he could possibly tell her. She didn't have the time, or the care to notice what he was saying, and just before he was upon her she kicked off from the ground, taking to flight. The snow stopped falling, and Gen could clearly see the stars, and something else, a sight that no mortal has ever seen, but she had seen it once before.  
  
The machine making whirring, and humming noise behind Gen, and the heavens began to swirl, the stars leaving their courses. The Bridge was opening up the portal world between dimentions, and choosing which portal to take. Gen began to feel a rather strange sensation, one that hadn't taken her the first time. It was almost as if the higher she got the lighter she became, even to a point where she wasn't sure if she was still seated on the broom.  
  
The broom had chosen a black and white swirling nova, and as they got closer too it Gen began to feel as though, while the bridge wanted to take her into the black and white hole the portal itself didn't want her. In fact it seemed like another portal, one of blue and green was pulling her toward it, off of the broom. Soon her body was completely off the broom, except for her frightened grip of death she had on the handle. Her whole body flew out from the broom, and it was as if she was being torn between Portals. Working against the portals Gen pulled herself to the broom, as if finding safety in it, but eventually the strain became to much for her to handle, and she no longer knew what was going on, save that she needed to keep hold of the broom, and she slipped into a strange unconsciousness.  
  
  
  
Gen had no idea where she was. A black void, darker than the shadows that lurked in the hallways of Hogwarts had swallowed her up. There it held her, steadfast against any hopes of recovering. If she were to open her eyes, she'd find naught more than a black sheet pulled over her. Her eyes would strain (to the point of bursting) as she tried to penetrate this unconsciousness. Somewhere, deep within her mind, she felt her body begin to stir slowly and the very thought of her muscle flinching to relieve it from a fly's torment made her scream in unrelenting pain.  
  
It was this that ultimately woke her from her blacked-out bliss. Her eyes flew open with a loud isnap/i and she felt her body freeze with fear as she gazed upon the world she was tossed into.  
  
Shadows littered the ground where no leaves fell, shattering the smooth surface of the black and red checkered pathway. Trees, as ancient as the stone that built Gen's home, stood majestically over the gothic path, their branches gnarled and twisting high into the air. The small twigs that sprung from the large limbs reached out for their mates who clung to the tree across the way; faraway, so close! The ones that met rejoiced in their bond and from that, there sprouted another oak, or ash, or whatever it was that these 'trees' were. The leaves that grew were hidden from Gen's view and stretched to the glass ceiling that of this snow globe-like world. She was certain that this was no real world; it simply didn't make sense. Other than the roots on the bottom of the tree, that stuck suddenly out of the ground to rudely trip the feet of inattentive travelers, the forest in this haunted universe seemed to be nothing but complete and utter inonsense/i. Tacked onto the thick trunks of these guardian trees were signs. Not just any ordinary signs, for ordinarity is a sin in this 'wonderland.'  
  
iWonderland,/i Gen thought. iThat seems like an appropriate name./i And after finishing this thought, she drew in a deep breath and braced her legs. Rising to her feet, she was greeted by the unpleasant feeling of lightheadedness, and the oddest sensation of a hook just beneath her neck, gently tugging her backward. Ignoring both these senses, which, I assure you, is a bad thing to do when alone in a forest (you're better off waiting until you feel better), she took a step toward the nearest tree, and placed her eyes next to the sign, reading the words.  
  
' This Way', the blue sign screamed at her, pointing to the left. Gen tilted her head to gaze down that pathway. Immediately, she regretted it, for her eyes began to ache for they tried to look through the dark shadows that covered it, taking it into almost complete darkness. Gen liked being on the lighter path. That way, she can see things around her. Above the blue sign, it's bright orange companion yelled (in nothing but the worst eye-smartingly bright pink) 'To Yonder'. It, too, pointed to the left.  
  
Swallowing her fear, Gen took a step to the left, following as the signs instructed. After the first one, she took another, and then another in the way that one should when walking. However, those few steps were as far as the forest would let her go, for near to immediately, she was assaulted with another sign. This time, it was in the colour of icy white and the black scrawl that was written on it said 'There'. This sign went against everything Gen had been told, and pointed the opposite way. A green sign pointed down, and said 'Over Here' upon it, confusing Gen even more.  
  
Gen spun around to get away from the signs only to see more of them, all hammered in an askew manner onto the trees. Frightened, she ran in the opposite direction that she had been heading. The pull within her chest increased, and it was then that she realized that by going down the dark 'alley', the pressure on the hook went down. Her heart seized in her chest and her breath shortened as she looked around in fear. Five steps within her mad dash, she came to a screeching halt. Her legs danced beneath her as her eyes scanned the woods, desperate to find some sort of way out of the hellhole she had found herself within.  
  
She was trapped. There was no way out. The pulling force under her neck caused her mind to spin, and a roaring began in her ears. The solid ground that her feet rested on tipped violently, and before Gen knew it, she was gazing up at the tops of the trees from where she lay on a red checker. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and what she used to see, she could no more, for the world blurred. Absently, she ran her hand over the grassy pathway. Alternatively, wait - was it grass just because she ibelieved/i it to be grass? Or, did she think it to be grass because it just ifelt/i like grass? These frighteningly philosophical thoughts pushed her sanity to the brink, and more tears splashed down her cheeks in a downpour of loneliness and terror.  
  
She didn't have long to angst alone with her sorrows, to be truthful. The very instant she gave herself up to the woods, and her tears fell against her bitter judgment, she heard something. Not just a nothing something, but a something that sounded quite like a song. But, the woods singing? Impossible. Yet, there it was, loud and clear, and seeming to emanate from the bark of the wood in the areas in front of her. It started low in her hearing, and then worked its way up to a forte, capturing her interest, and making her look up to a branch not too far from her. The lyrics, though. They didn't sound like anything she'd heard before. If she ventured a guess, she'd say they were nothing but gibberish. i "'Twas brilig, and the slithey toves, did gile and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy were the boragoves, and the momewraths outgrabe!" /i  
  
Gen had no time to wonder about the appearance of a boragove, or the habits of a momewrath. In the duration of the song, the air above the branch that had Gen's attention began to twist itself into a spiral, the breeze that didn't exist crashing in upon the air that was under it like the swells on a beach. Soon, in the spot of weakness, something began to glimmer and glint in the patchy light. It appeared to be a grin - a bloodthirsty grin that didn't even appear to try to seem friendly.  
  
Inch long fangs seemed to drip with ill-will as they glittered in what sunlight made it through to the ground. The lines around this curiosity began to harden, twisting this faceless mouth into a well-placed sneer. Two great, big, lemon colored eyes dropped from nowhere to stand stock still above the mouth as a pink nose began to fizzle into view. The optics swiveled in their unseen sockets to land upon Gen, taking on a cold feeling as they took her in. The mouth said nothing, continuing to grin in it's malicious way.  
  
Gen timidly cleared her throat. "Um, excuse me. If... you could be so kind as to-"  
  
"Kind!" the bodiless grin shrieked, floating down to where Gen was sitting. "You want me to be ikind/i? You expect kindness when you, and you ialone/i, took it upon yourself to trespass on a world that isn't yours? You expect me to show you ihospitality/i when iyou/i were the one without the invitation?"  
  
Gen was quite dumbstruck. She sat there, puzzling for something to use in response when the eyes closed. Gen, being the observer that she is, noted that they were, in fact, green. They then gave off the distinct impression that the invisible head was being shaken.  
  
It is very curious to see the back of an eye, let alone two iand/i a grin. Gen got to experience this curiosity first hand as they turned and began to prowl back to the tree on which it first appeared. Curiouser and curiouser things got as the floating appearances scaled the tree. Soon, all the curiosity of the being vanished as it began to take form.  
  
As it made its way to a brand, Gen was unnerved to notice that this creature back to solidify. Above the eyes there formed two green ears, equal distance apart and standing proud, like the pyramids in the sands of Egypt. From the base of the ears, green tufts of fur hung loosely from the cheekbones, giving the impression that this creature was very thin. Gen's eyes ran up from his nose and over his ears to his back and watched as it arched dangerously into the shape of a pleasing curve. His spine elongated, and where a great, poofy tail may have been, there stood one with the fur hanging from it. Had it not been for the mangy look running through the rest of this animal, Gen would have called it 'luxurious' with the way its ex-silken strands draped over the whip-like thinness. His body, save for his eyes and his nose, was, surprisingly, green in color. A light grass green made up the majority of his coat and the main parts of his face: around his eyes, and outlining his mouth. The color was so lively that it gave the leaves on the trees a reason to hide as they became green with envy. Silver claws protruded from his clover paws. Gen blinked; no, those were not shadows on his perfectly cheery coat. They were, in fact, stripes of a darker green persuasion. A very curious and perverse shape of stripe, for it cascaded down his spine in a flowing river, before outrunning its banks and carving their way down his fur. There they freeze up into their pine green glory, and shatter into shards of dark, mutilated patches of lace upon that lovely cloak that covered his body. The jade delighted itself with standing in stark contrast with the lighter that it stood upon.  
  
Gen tore her eyes away from the distracting color to let her eyes graze over his body to figure out what he was, if she could recognize the shape at all. The triangular ears that perched themselves upon his skull flicked back and forth, searching for a noise. The yellow eyes that sat below those smart ears were round and just about as large as dinner plates. The lamplight orbs were almost enough to draw attention away from his skeleton. Almost.  
  
Although his striped did a good job with obstructing his shape, and trying to conceal his ribs, one could notice that this animal had seen better days. His ribcage stuck out at sharp angles and his hip poked out from his coat, making him look starved, and nothing less than sick. Gen felt her heart go out to his creature. Before she could make a comment on the sickly way he was presented, or the two golden hoops that hung from his right ear, or the undeniable sight of a tail wrap over his fur, was the fact that the realization of what he was smacked her up the back of the head, and caused her to gasp.  
  
"Why, you're a cat!"  
  
The cat slowly blinked his eyes before rising on his hind legs. He leaned his upper body against the trunk of the tree, crossing his forelimbs over his thin chest as he did so. The whole thing was really quite curious. "Very well spoken," he said with an obvious note of sarcasm.  
  
Gen was taken aback, having hoped that his initial rudeness was only a one- time deal. "Pardon me, but -." She didn't have time to finish what she was saying.  
  
"Stop being so polite! The Queen knows we had enough of ithat/i with Alice!"  
  
Silence. Then: "Alice?"  
  
The cat sighed, his chest heaving with the effort. "Yes. Alice. Haven't you read the books?"  
  
Gen perked up. She's read books; a great number of books. Opening her mouth, she let her lips form the words to tell this to the Cheshire Cat.  
  
Much to her dislike, the statement served only to annoy the Cheshire. "iHonestly!/i" he cried, pushing himself away from the trunk and landing back on the branch, his four paws tucked under his body. In all her months at Hogwarts, she took the time to listen to each person talk, and she nearly had the talent to place each person's accent with a region of the UK. This Cat's voice carried the distinct lilt of an Irishman. Also, one must mention that his grin never once left his face, each fang still wet with saliva. "You'd think that those that take it upon themselves to enter this wood would have at least read the books that Alice wrote." Grumbling, he added to himself, "Money greedy wench." Turning his attention back to Gen, he ran his sandpaper tongue over his teeth. "Oh, no," he began, seeing the confused look on Gen's face. "Don't think you're the only one who has come here. Just last Wonderyear, we had a dragon, a unicorn, and their human companions come waltzing right through here like they owned the place!" He placed a paw to his forehead and took a deep breath. "They even had the igall/i to take our previous Cheshire."  
  
Gen felt her face break into an excited grin. "You mean there are more of you?"  
  
His eyes snapped back to her, his voice clipped. "Of course! I'm his replacement! What's Wonderland without a Cheshire Cat, I'd like to know?"  
  
"... What did you call this place?"  
  
A sigh echoed through the cat's empty ribcage. "Wonderland."  
  
Gen crossed her arms, having had just about enough of this cat's sour mood. "I didn't know that cats could be so rude."  
  
The Cheshire's eyes narrowed and the twisted grin looked even more maniacal than before. "And I bet you didn't think that humans could be so ignorant, either."  
  
"Hey!" Gen cried indignantly.  
  
The Cheshire ignored her displeasure and opted to vanish from sight.  
  
"Wait!" Gen called, not wanting to be left alone in this insane asylum. In her mind, rude company was better than no company. She let her eyes drop in despair. It's a lucky thing she did, too, otherwise, she wouldn't have noticed the tiny blades of grass - that was what she resolved to call them - bend over, yielding themselves to a heavier creature. She watched in silence as the paw prints marched in two columns before splitting and each going on opposite sides of her. They rejoined behind her, and the whole thing left Gen quite confused. Her head ached from trying to understand all of this. The pressure left the red block and the Cheshire appeared on the tree opposite the one that he was originally perched. He looked down upon Gen in distaste.  
  
She felt her face grow hot with blush. "Sorry. I just didn't want to be alone."  
  
"You're not alone."  
  
Something about the way he said that sentence, with his fangs ever gleaming in this setting, and his cool, calm voice caressing the words made Gen go uneasy. "...Oh..." She could tell that he was growing tired of dealing with her. She gathered her courage to her to ask a question, but it was all in vain, for the cat spoke before she could.  
  
"The Queen is that way" - he said, pointing to the left - "The Mad Hatter is that way" - his other paw pointed right - "And the white rabbit went that way" - Rising on his tail, he used his bottom paws to point at Gen, and away from her, both in the different directions.  
  
Taking a breath, Gen shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking bout, Sir Cat.."  
  
He grinned at her, that blasted grin that made Gen want to scream until her voice box was torn from her throat and she died from the blood that would pound from her body. "You will soon enough," he stated, his tail beginning to vanish, like a sugar cane disintegrating into a glass of water. "You'll soon find yourself lost in a world where nothing is as it seems, your voice screaming for help. Fear not, for the only place you will be lost in, will be your own mind." All that was left now was his grin. "Oh, and in case you were wondering, your broom is with the Mad Hatter. Don't fear," he cooed, his words wrapping themselves around Gen's body like some sort of hated coat. "We're all mad here. Even," he paused, his grin beginning to flicker, "you."  
  
Gen found herself with nothing for comfort, than the cat's cackle, which was just almost as bad as his grin, the gibberish song echoing from the trees, the soundwaves bounding off the bark.  
  
She was completely, and undeniably, alone.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
CHAPTER FIFTEEN!!! FINALY!!! Were you just dying with anticipation!?! Well I just wanted to wish you all a happy Christmas, and a Wonderful New Year! If you were wondering I didn't write this entire chapter. Because in it I've used the brilliant writing of the wonderful Jess MacPhisto, she is my guest writer you might say. Try to guess where she started writing and where I stopped. Well, there's more fun for Gen in Wonderland coming, so don't worry. If you want to read more by the lovely Jess look her up, her name is Jess MacPhisto, she's in my Favorite Authors list. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!!! I NEED REVIEWS!!! Thanks a ton, I love you all!!! 


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